The Way of Change
by ImagineYourself64
Summary: Sequel to Summer in Cabin 7A. Summer is over and the gang is back at school. Things are still pretty crazy, but everything seems to be getting slowly better. However, it doesn't take long for all of that to change, again, thanks to one obsessive skinwalker and his groupies.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNINGS**: This fic contains mentions of PTSD, some non-con scenes, and rape (though it is not an explicit scene).

A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to the sequel! If you have not read Summer in Cabin 7A, I suggest you do because this is NOT a stand-alone fic. If you have read SiC7A, welcome back! Hope you are all well and enjoying life. I know my characters aren't, but you'll find out about that below!

First of all, I'd like to thank you all for waiting patiently for this to come out and I hope you all enjoy it! I know I'm loving writing this and getting out all the background and extra stuff..

Alright so, if you didn't read the note chapter I just put up on SiC7A, then here's just a few notes. This fic is a LOT darker than it's prequel. Like a LOT. Not kidding. Dean gets pretty fucked up and everyone kinda goes crazy, BUT there will be a happy ending! Cause I can't stand leaving things with unhappy endings... Anyway, get ready for a thrill ride because this will rock your socks off. (oh! and there's mentions of Sabriel for all of you fans out there hehe)

Another note: in SiC7A, I had the beginning and end be Sam storytelling in camp. That takes place one year after the fiasco with the skinwalkers in that fic. There is no (well it's not planned at least) mention of Sam telling that story, but I'm implying that it's the next night and Sam is telling the other cuties this second part of the story. I might finish with that... but it doesn't start with that, so I'm sorry if you liked storyteller Sam.

Finally (after this I'll leave you alone, I swear), I'm hoping to update this every Monday, but I can't make any promises.. I only have three chapters written now... They're pretty damn long this time around, so I'm hoping that will make up for it. Any questions? Just ask.

Without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter of **The Way of Change**.

* * *

****A/N: I lied (shhh). Warning for a sex scene in this. There's going to be a lot of those in this story, but you'll find out why later. There's a real reason. No really.

**1.**

"I wish school didn't start tomorrow."

"You've been saying that for the past two weeks, Dean."

"Yeah, but it's still true… Chicken on a motorcycle!"

"Nice one."

"I thought so."

"Alligator chasing a brachiosaurus."

"Is that one of those big dinosaurs?"

"They're dinosaurs with long necks that eat leaves off the tops of trees."

"So they're like the giraffes of the dinosaur world?"

"…I suppose…"

Dean laughed and sat up, stretching his neck. He glanced down beside him at Cas, who still had his head hanging off the edge of the roof and was staring at the clouds with a thoughtful expression. Dean's mouth curled into a smile and he leaned down on one elbow, resting his other hand on Cas' hip.

"Boys!" they suddenly heard Mary's voice call out. "Dinner!"

"Coming!" Dean shouted as a reply.

Cas sat up stiffly and rubbed at his neck. The sun was just starting to set and it threw yellow light onto his pale features as he looked to Dean. "Let's go," he said quietly. They climbed down from the roof and joined the rest of Dean's family, but not before Dean planted a kiss on Cas' mouth just outside the door. After dinner, Cas helped Mary with the dishes before Dean took him home in the Impala. It was that time of the evening that both boys hated the most.

In the few weeks after they had returned to Lawrence from camp, Dean and Cas had still spent most of their days together, doing everything from playing cards to checking out the local art museum. They never wanted their time to end, but each night it did. Zach still didn't know that they were dating, but Dean's parents had taken the news with hugs and enthusiasm, Cas quickly melting into the Winchester family.

That night, though, Dean took the long way to Cas' house and they stopped by the neighborhood park, stopping in the lot and listening to some old rock ballad that Dean was humming along to. Cas took Dean's hand into his as they sat in the quiet.

"Do you ever think about how things would have been different if… if they hadn't been there?" Dean didn't need to specify for Cas to know what he was talking about.

"All the time. We might have been put in different cabins and never have really met." Cas was playing with his boyfriend's fingers when he abruptly dropped his hands and sighed. "Things are so different now."

"Yeah," Dean said with a little chuckle. "Hey, at least we have each other." He put his recently freed hand on Cas' leg and tried to smile at him.

"Yes, we do," Cas replied with a gentle tilt of his lips. He lowered his head a moment later, though, and looked at his hands, which were fidgeting on his lap. "Dean…"

"Yeah?"

"There's something I want to tell you, but I don't want it to make you uncomfortable or anything like that." His cheeks were a little more colored than usual, and Dean could tell even in the dim lighting of the streetlights around the parking lot.

"Just say it, Cas."

"I… I think I love you."

Dean looked at him for a moment, but Cas was still staring at his lap. Reaching an arm across, Dean nudged his chin to get him to look at him. "I love you, too," Dean said with a smile, feeling relief at finally having said it out loud even though he'd known it for weeks. After everything that had happened to the over the summer, he'd figured it was useless to try and deny his feelings, he just hadn't wanted to push Cas so he'd waited for him to say something first.

Cas' face lit up and Dean leaned over to kiss him softly, slowly, and Cas took one of his hands again. They stayed like that for a long time until Dean figured he ought to get Cas home before Zach started to freak out. He did that sometimes when he didn't know where Cas was. They shared one final kiss before Cas got out of the Impala and Dean made sure he got inside just fine before heading back home.

* * *

Michael had him pinned to the bed by his hips while his hands were tied above his head. There was a malicious grin on Michael's lips which soon covered his in a hot kiss that was all teeth and tongues clashing together. He moaned at the pressure on his groin, wishing that Michael would move or do _something_ because his hard-on was going to get real painful real soon unless Michael gave him some friction.

But Michael just laughed, and Dean woke up with a gasp and a strong pang of arousal.

He sighed and flopped around in the hopes of getting out of the tangle of his sheets, but it didn't seem to be working. He gave up after a moment and stared up broodingly at the ceiling. It was still dark in his room which meant that the sun hadn't even risen. Which meant it was going to be another sleepless night for Dean, something he'd been getting used to ever since he came back from camp.

From Michael.

The skinwalker had left deep imprints in Dean's mind and on his body. They were invisible to everyone else, but whenever Dean looked in the mirror all he saw were the places that Michael had marked on him, and where his hands had been. It gave Dean a violent, unpleasant shiver just thinking about it. And yet… there was something so horribly thrilling about it. And that sent a wave of dark excitement through him.

It probably didn't help that he hadn't done anything remotely sexual with Cas past making out since their return. He really needed to get laid, but it was hard to find time alone for the two of them. Next to impossible even. He needed it though. He needed to get lost in his boyfriend, the one he was in love with, the one who could make him forget about Michael and give him everything he'd ever want.

It scared him a little just how much he depended on Cas. He would wake up every night from another bad dream, and the next day when he saw Cas, he would forget all about it. It wouldn't matter that he'd gotten maybe two hours of sleep because Cas was there and Cas was what mattered most, not his nightmares, not anything. Days where he didn't see Cas were always dark and lonely.

Dean sighed, running a hand over his face and closing his eyes again, deciding it might be a good idea to at least attempt to sleep again, even if just a short while since he started his third year of high school in the morning. It would probably be a shitty thing to fall asleep in class on the first day. He sighed again, knowing it was bound to happen anyway, and turned over, staring at the wall instead of the ceiling. It was going to be another long night.

* * *

"Honey are you sure you want to go to school today? You look sick…" Mary's voice cut through the haze around Dean as he sat eating breakfast.

"I'm fine," he replied, somewhat irritably. He was getting really sick of these long, sleepless nights, and he missed having Cas beside him in the darkness. The morning just seemed to get worse as Sam took for-freaking-ever in the bathroom and they were behind schedule when Dean finally jumped behind the wheel of the Impala, only to have John come out and tell him he needed the car that day so he'd drop them off.

Sam was finally going to the high school, though, since he was starting eighth grade that year, and it was going to be a lot easier for them both to get to school in the mornings, something Dean was glad for. Even so, they were almost late on the first day and both boys had to run to their various homerooms.

Since they were in different years, Dean didn't see Cas at all until lunch, where they both sat with Sam, Brady and Jess, their little group once again together. Dean had never really had any friends in his previous years so there was no one to miss him as he sat with his newfound friends. He was happy though. They were a tight knit circle, brought together by summer camp and everything that had happened. Still, Dean's mood was foul from that morning and everyone noticed.

The only good news was when the bell rang for class and Cas pulled Dean a little to the side. "My dad is going to be late tonight. Want to come over?" he whispered to his boyfriend.

Dean smirked. It was all the answer Cas needed. The rest of the day passed quickly and uneventfully, as most first days are. Dean sent his brother home with a message for their mother that he was probably going to be late that night. Dean didn't really spend a lot of time at Cas' house, but he liked it.

Cas lived alone with his dad, Anna having moved out a few months back to live with her boyfriend, Zar, and even though Zach wasn't around a lot, Cas liked it sometimes. He spent a lot of his time at Dean's place after camp, and being alone again in the afternoons, he remembered what it was like to be lonely. Dean wanted to make sure he didn't feel that loneliness, though, and made it his goal to spend as much time as possible with Cas, even though they couldn't be together _all_ the time. But Dean especially liked spending time with him at Cas' house.

It was a plain house, with mostly white walls and dark furniture, but it was homey. And quiet. For Dean, whose house was almost always filled with his mother or his brother or both during the day, he was a little jealous of Cas having such a space to himself. Cas' room was his favorite though.

There were bookshelves lining an entire wall covered in literally hundreds of titles, most of which Dean had never read or even heard of. Another wall was covered by a mural that Cas himself had done. It was a view of Holland, apparently, with rolling green hills, a field of brightly colored tulips and a huge windmill in the background. The clouds were grayish and looked like cotton candy in the brilliant blue sky. Every time Dean saw it he was amazed.

He lay on his side on Cas' bed to look at the wall and paint it into his memories as he tried to do every time he could. Cas rummaged around in his bag and pulled out a couple of papers, which he set on his desk and turned to look at Dean with a smile.

"Are you going to do any homework or anything?" Cas asked in an amused tone.

Dean just closed his eyes. "Eh, maybe later."

"Alright, well I'm going to do mine…"

"Fiiiiiine," Dean drawled. "In a minute." Cas laughed in reply and sat in his desk chair. And while Dean had every intention to keep to his word and get up to fill out all the papers that his teachers had passed out during class, he somehow fell into a surprisingly dreamless sleep.

* * *

When he woke up, Dean felt rested. He sat up, glanced around, realized where he was, and then flopped back down. Cas was still in his chair across the room, but he was turned to Dean with a pencil in his hand and a sketchpad on his lap.

"Dean. You picked a bad time to wake up," Cas said neutrally.

Dean sat up again in surprise. "Why? What's wrong?"

Cas sighed dramatically. "I was drawing you and you moved! You were in the perfect position, too. I just needed to get your head…" he trailed off when he realized that Dean was laughing quietly at him. "What?"

"If you want to draw me so bad, just tell me what I looked like," Dean replied with a smile. He tried to get back into the position he'd been in when he woke up, but Cas sighed and shook his head, standing.

"No, put your arm here…" Cas repositioned him and Dean watched through half-lidded eyes, really tempted to just grab him, but knowing Cas wanted to finish his picture first. "Stay just like that."

Dean gave him a grin and relaxed, watching Cas as he sat back down and picked up his pencil, a look of extreme concentration on his face. Cas bit his lip and glanced between Dean and the sketchpad before him. Normally, Dean might have felt a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but with Cas it was different. Everything was different with Cas.

"Done." Dean sat and stretched before going over to Cas to see the drawing. It was fantastic; Cas had captured every little detail of his person and surrounded him with features of the room in a more blurry, shaded fashion.

Dean smiled over Cas' shoulder at it for a few moments before gently taking it from him to place it on the desk. He took Cas' hand and pulled him up from the chair, leading him to the bed until the backs of his knees hit the edge and Dean fell backward, dragging Cas down with him. With a hand on the back of his neck, Dean brought Cas' mouth to his and kissed him slowly. Cas put his knee on the bed between Dean's leg to lean over him, hands on either side of his body, and returned the kiss heartily.

"How much time do we have?" Dean asked quietly against his boyfriend's lips.

Cas glanced at the alarm clock next to his bed. "Plenty." He grinned a wicked grin and gave a just as wicked kiss that prompted Dean to take his waist and flip him onto the bed and straddle his hips.

Dean didn't waste any time pulling off Cas' shirt and planting kisses along his neck. He was already getting hard at that point when Cas made a sound that should have been downright illegal. It was somewhere between a needy keen and a warning growl and it was _sexy_.

"Pants off. Now," Cas commanded, receiving a laugh from Dean. But he still complied and slid off the bed for a moment to pull Cas' off and strip out of his own shirt and jeans. Cas watched him with dark eyes and shifted up the bed so his back was against the headboard. It didn't take Dean very long to return to him and pick up where they left off, this time with both boys clad in just boxers.

"God, I've been needing this," Dean muttered, his lips moving across the skin below Cas' jaw. But Cas took his chin and forced him away to look in his eyes.

"Is this why you've been acting weird lately?" he asked seriously.

"What do you mean?" Dean retorted, though he knew exactly what Cas meant.

"You're jumpy and stressed and you look sick half the time, Dean. What's been happening?" Dean sighed and sat back but he didn't answer. "Dean," Cas added in a softer tone, "please tell me."

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean I can't!" Dean took a breath and tried to calm himself. "I will… just not now, okay?"

Cas looked at him for a long moment, but he eventually relented and nodded. "Okay." He laid a hand on Dean's cheek and leaned forward to kiss him again softly. "I worry about you."

"I know… just trust me on this." Dean's voice sounded tired and strained even to himself.

"I do trust you." Cas brushed his thumb across Dean's lips. "I love you, Dean."

Dean pulled him into another kiss and leaned their foreheads together as he said, "I love you, too, Cas."

Slowly, gently, Cas pushed his back down onto the bed with their mouths pressed together. Dean was strangely comforted by the body on top of him and the lips kissing his and the hands that were moving across his sides. If he was being honest with himself, it really wasn't that strange at all. It was what he'd been wanting and it felt great. It was exactly what he needed.

It wasn't about the sex, though that was admittedly great, but it was more about the comfort. It was the love that Cas showed with every kiss and every touch he gave to Dean. Every drag of skin on skin; every pull, every push, every moan that left their lips. It was everything.

It made him forget, at least for a little while. It made him forget everything.

And when he went to his own bed that night, he didn't have any nightmares. He didn't dream at all.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm glad you all seem to like this so far! So in this chapter there is a whole lot of background. Someone requested that there be some other sort of love interest for Cas, so here you go with that story, and there will be much more to it later on(plus some other things hehe). Also, I forgot to mention this in the beginning, but this story does have POV changes, between Dean and Cas, just because a lot of different things happen to them each and it's easier to have it separate for that(though it's not that noticeable or anything). On another note, I honestly have no idea how long this is going to be, but it will be at least as long, if not longer that SiC7A... Anyway, here's chapter 2!

* * *

Mary gave him a once over and a smile when Dean went out to the kitchen the next morning. "You look better today," she said pleasantly, turning back to the stove to stir a pan of eggs.

Dean just yawned and collapsed into a chair. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered, gratefully accepting a plate of food from his mother. Sam bounded down the stairs and into the room, taking the seat next to Dean. Mary put a plate in front of him, too.

Dean did actually feel a lot better, and for once he'd had a full night of sleep. Still, his mind was tired and he was not looking forward to another day at school. He knew, though, that he would need to pay attention and maybe learn his teachers' names that day since the day before he couldn't have even been bothered to learn them.

The Winchester boys made it to school just fine and actually had time to meet up with their friends that morning. Cas seemed to be the only one to notice Dean's change of mood from the day before, though. They stood together in the hallway by Cas' homeroom, shoulders brushing because they were "insufferably inseparable", as Sam put it, which only served to make Dean laugh.

It was around then that a cute boy, who looked like he was probably a sophomore, came walking down the hallways towards them all. "Hi, Cas," he said shyly, and Dean watched as he approached.

Cas had been turned to Dean and hadn't seen him come up, but when he spoke, Cas visibly stiffened and looked over his shoulder in surprise. "Alfie?"

"You two know each other?" Dean asked resisting the urge to put a hand on Cas' waist. It was kind of an unspoken agreement that they weren't going to announce their relationship publicly. At least not for a while. Lawrence was by no means a small town, per se, but they didn't figure it would go down well in school if they suddenly became all lovey-dovey with each other.

Dean was forced out of his thoughts when Cas glanced at him and said, "Yes. Sort of."

Alfie looked down and his face fell when Cas spoke. "I'll see you around, I guess," he muttered, already walking away.

Dean raised a brow at his boyfriend. "What was that?"

Cas just sighed. "It's… a long story."

"Come over and tell me after school?"

He smiled a little at Dean's eager tone. "Okay." The bell rang and they all parted ways.

Dean's first class was ancient history, something he usually didn't have much of an interest in, but his teacher was utterly nuts so he thought that maybe he could like it. Sure, he'd only been in her class two days, but it was a good indication of insanity when Ms. Visyak spent the first half hour of class ranting about dragons and their ability to transform into men and walk among us to steal virgins. It was pretty ridiculous.

Then again, who knew if it was true or not? Just two months ago if anyone had asked Dean what a skinwalker was he'd have laughed and said he had no fucking idea. He'd had more than his fair share of experience with them, though, by that point.

The morning passed without any other weird teachers, well, unless he counted his math teacher, Mr. Roman, who held his nose in the air and talked with a countenance that screamed "I'm a huge dick!" It didn't help that Dean was almost late to class, either, and he'd received the death glare of a lifetime from said dick and was probably placed as number one on said dick's shit list.

It was lunch, though, when things really started getting weird, and Dean was very glad he'd slept a bit the night before because things probably would have turned out much differently if he'd been just as irritable as the first day.

Cas was laughing as he told them of Miss Masters, his physical education teacher, who had allegedly been hitting on him the last ten minutes of class. Sam was just saying that Dean had some competition starting when a lean, dark skinned boy sauntered over to their table and they all fell quiet.

"Castiel, I haven't seen you in a while," he said, tone mocking. He glanced around at everyone. "I see you've found yourself at the loser table this year."

"Hello, Raphael," Cas grumbled, ignoring his other comment.

The kid, Raphael, leaned down in front of Cas with his elbows on the table. "You're always welcome at my table you know."

Cas didn't say anything but gave him a spiteful glare. "Dude, just fuck off. He obviously doesn't want to talk to you," Dean told him.

Raphael turned to him, as if noticing for the first time that Dean was there. "Dean Winchester, I presume? The boy that killed little Alistair."

Dean was about to stand up, or say something, but Cas spoke first. "Get out of here, Raphael. I don't want anything to do with you anymore and you have no right to talk like that to anyone."

Raphael gave a contemptuous glare to Dean, but he turned back to Cas. "Fine," he said, starting to walk away. He passed by Cas' shoulder on his way, though and leaned down to whisper something to him.

Dean didn't catch all of it, but it sounded almost like, "Don't pretend you don't miss your ass in my bed." The look on Cas' face just made it all the more confusing, though, because he dropped his head and stared angrily at the table. He was about to ask Cas what the hell just happened when the bell rang and Cas stood quickly, leaving them behind to get to his next class.

Sam's eyes met his brother's and they shrugged at each other. Dean made a mental note to ask Cas about all of that later, too.

* * *

The rest of the day was uneventful until Dean met his brother and Cas in the parking lot to drive home. The air was tense, so much so that it was almost palpable, and even Sam's attempts to ask how their days went were unappreciated and unanswered. Mary wasn't there when they arrived at Dean's house and Sam commandeered the living room as a reading space while Cas and Dean went upstairs. Dean was too tired to even confront Cas on the day's happenings so he just sat on his bed and waited for Cas to start talking. He didn't have to wait long.

"Raphael and I… we dated last year, for a couple of months. Alfie is his little brother, he's my age, and Raphael is a senior this year." Cas said, pacing the room in front of the bed.

"Explains why I don't know either of them… but Raphael is—"

"He's adopted," Cas said, curtly cutting off Dean's mutterings.

"So what happened?" Dean asked after a moment, a little put off by Cas' tone.

Cas just sighed and sat in the desk chair across from Dean. "I thought he was someone different. Someone who actually cared. But we hadn't even been dating that long when he became controlling and a little abusive. I put up with it because I thought that maybe it was just a phase, that it would change, but it didn't. He… forced me into things that I didn't want and eventually I couldn't take it so I left him. He's never let it go, though."

Dean soaked all of that in, silent. Then, he stood and crossed over to Cas, kneeling in front of him. "Back then, at camp, you didn't want to push me. I don't want to push you either."

"I know, Dean," Cas told him quietly, finally meeting his eyes. "The difference is that I know you, and you're always honest with me. He wasn't. I trust you," he added.

It was difficult, but Dean tried to keep the stab of guilt off of his face. Cas must have seen through him because he asked in a worried tone, "Dean? What's wrong?"

Dean dropped his head and let his shoulders slump. "Nothing, Cas. It's nothing." He didn't know anymore if he was trying to convince Cas, or himself.

"Dean… if it's about me and everything that—"

"No," Dean quickly said. "No, it's not about you." He took a deep breath. If he didn't way it now, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to later. Plus, he didn't want Cas to worry that it was something that he'd done, because it was nothing of the sort. "Cas, there's something I should tell you." He paused but Cas said nothing.

"It's not… it's not about you. You've done nothing wrong, you're perfect, it's just—"

"Dean?"

"I—I've been having these nightmares. Every night. And I don't know why but I just can't sleep because I'm afraid. Cas, I'm so afraid…" The words tumbled from his mouth before he really had the chance to stop them.

"About Michael?" Cas breathed. Dean just nodded, not trusting himself to even open his mouth. "It's not your fault Dean. It was… it was bad, but you need to let it go. Just move past it."

"Cas… I don't know if I can. It's always there, always nagging in my head." Dean still didn't look up, but he was forced to when Cas put his hands on either side of his face.

"It's over now, Dean," Cas told him with soft eyes. "He's not here anymore. He doesn't matter anymore."

"Then why do I feel like he's still watching me? Why do I keep dreaming about him?"

"Just let it go. If you keep hanging onto what happened, you'll never move on."

Dean stared up into those blue eyes but he didn't feel as if he could really do it, really let go of it all. It was so real, so fresh in his mind, and it visited him every night, leaving him as a guilty, self-loathing shell of what he used to be. He pulled away from Cas and stood a little shakily. "I can't just let go, Cas. Can't you understand that?"

"Why can't you?" Cas was watching him with concerned eyes that just made Dean hate ever more what he was about to say.

"Because I liked it," he said in a broken voice. "Because there's some fucked up part of me that actually liked what I did. How the hell can you expect me to just get over hating myself this fucking much?" He didn't look at Cas, and the other boy just stayed silent. "When I'm with you, I can forget. I can forget how much I hate what happened. I can stop thinking about all of that because all I want to think about is you…"

"Dean." He didn't turn when Cas said his name quietly. He didn't look when he heard Cas getting up from the chair. When Cas put his arms around him, he didn't even move. "It's okay. It's not your fault," Cas whispered to him, holding him tightly.

At those words, Dean let himself fall down into pieces. He knew instinctively that Cas would be there to pick them up. He let himself be maneuvered to the bed and he found himself curled up in Cas' protective embrace.

Up until that summer, only two people had ever seen Dean cry (other than when he was a baby, of course) and those two were his mother and his brother. But, for the second time, he was crying in front of Cas, the other boy as his only lifeline to the world.

He let himself cry because he didn't know what else to do. He let himself go because he was so overwhelmed with guilt and hate and even when he told the boy he loved, Cas had just whispered in his ear, over and over, that it wasn't his fault and it was going to be okay. Cas hadn't gotten mad at him. He hadn't walked away or given up. He hadn't held it against Dean.

"It's okay," was all that Cas said.

"I'm sorry," was all that Dean could say.

* * *

Cas stayed with him the entire night. Mary had come in when evening rolled around, but Dean had finally fallen asleep so he'd just quietly asked her to call his father and say he needed to stay. No one else bothered them and Cas, too, had eventually slept.

He woke first, and the sun was already streaming in brightly through the window. Dean's face was peaceful and one of his arms was slung across Cas' waist. Cas reached out a hand and gently brushed at Dean's hair. The motion was loving and he felt a tender smile on his own lips. There was a quiet knock on the door, but Cas didn't want to answer aloud, so he waited until Mary poked her head in.

"He's still asleep," Cas whispered across the room to her.

Mary frowned a little. "I talked to your dad and called you both out of school today."

"What time is it?" he mouthed. Mary held up nine fingers and Cas nodded gratefully. She gave him a smile and backed out of the room quietly as Dean finally stirred. Cas returned his fingers to Dean's hair and after a while, Dean opened his eyes slowly. "Morning," he whispered.

"You stayed." Dean sounded a little surprised.

"Of course."

Dean just looked at him. "Cas, I'm—"

Cas cut him off with a finger over Dean's lips. "Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I have everything to apologize for."

"Like what?" He dared Dean to answer.

After a moment, he did. "About all the shit that happened because of me, and all the shit in my head right now."

"Everyone comes with baggage, Dean. It's not something you can just forget, and I understand that completely," Cas told him in a soothing tone. He had experience with stuff like that, his own baggage, and he just hoped it was something even Dean's stubbornness would understand.

"That doesn't make me feel any less responsible," Dean replied miserably.

"It wasn't supposed to." Cas gave him a small smile and rested his hand on Dean's jaw. "You feel guilty, and abused, and tired, and I can understand that." Even to himself, his words sounded far older than his years. "But that doesn't mean you should let it all consume you. Keeping all of this bottled inside… it's not the right way to deal, Dean."

"It's the Winchester way," he muttered in reply with a tiny, bitter laugh.

Cas' thumb stroked his cheekbone. "Dean, do you trust me?"

"Yes," Dean breathed with no hesitation.

"Then talk to me. I'm not going to be mad because you went through something traumatic and you're still trying to deal with it. It's been a month, you can't expect to just get over everything that happened. Even I—I'm not over it." He paused to frown slightly. "I want to help you Dean. You told me before that you want to take care of me; I want to take care of you, too. So let me."

Dean didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, he put his hand over Cas' and whispered, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

Cas pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "Okay," he said quietly.

* * *

They went downstairs an hour later when both were feeling sufficiently hungry. Mary welcomed them with smiles and started the task of making pancakes while Dean took a trip to the bathroom. He had slept for about eighteen hours after all.

Cas turned to Mary from his place at the table and watched her for a moment. "Do you—?" he started to ask.

"He'll tell me when he's ready," Mary said, cutting off the rest of his question. "I'm glad he has you," she added quietly.

Cas was about to say something in reply, but Dean walked back into the kitchen and sat heavily beside him. They all stayed in an amiable silence until Dean broke it by asking if Mary had called them out.

"I talked with Cas' dad last night and this morning and we both called," she replied easily, flipping the pancakes as she spoke.

"Oh. Thanks," Dean said quietly. Mary made a little humming noise in reply and retrieved the syrup from the pantry before she set a plate in front of each boy.

"Thank you, Mary," Cas told her and she returned with a smile and a pat on his shoulder as they dug in. It was heavenly, as Mary's cooking usually was, but when he looked at Dean, he didn't seem to be enjoying it nearly as much. He only ate about a pancake and a half before pushing his plate away and leaning back.

Cas took his last bite from his fork and Mary gathered up their dishes as Dean stood. He followed a moment later up the stairs and into Dean's room, where Dean pulled off his t-shirt over his head and tossed it into a laundry basket. He grabbed a different shirt, with Van Halen in big letters across the front and slid into it. Meanwhile, Cas was just leaning against the doorframe and watching him curiously.

"Let's sit outside for a while," he suddenly said, prompting Dean to look over at him.

"Alright," Dean replied in a half-sigh. He'd slept for nearly eighteen hours if Cas' math was right, but Dean still looked utterly exhausted and a little sickly.

"How are you feeling? Cas asked once they were in the backyard and sitting beneath a fairly large tree with branches that stretched over nearly half of the whole area.

Dean shrugged in reply. "Tired, still. My neck kinda hurts."

"How are you feeling _emotionally_?" Cas reiterated.

He just shrugged again. "Shitty."

"Do you… do you want to talk about it?" Cas was hesitant, for good reason, because he didn't want Dean to feel pressured or uncomfortable if he didn't want to. But a part of him really hoped Dean would share, because he was curious, and maybe a little jealous, about Dean's dreams with Michael.

Dean was quiet for a long while before he turned to glance at Cas. "I'm really glad you came and got me that night," he told Cas softly. "I think a lot of the time about what could have—_would_ have happened if you hadn't."

"Dean… why did you give up?" Cas met his eyes, not feeling any of the disdain or hate that Dean had obviously been expecting.

"He said he'd leave you all alone." It wasn't the full answer and they both knew it, but Dean wasn't about to say anything more and Cas didn't want to push him. They fell into a bout of silence for quite some time.

"Cas," Dean said finally, breaking it, "would you mind if I asked about Raphael?"

That surprised Cas and he looked at his boyfriend sharply. "Well, I guess not." It was still something emotional for him, but he was willing to talk about it, considering he'd never really had anyone to talk to about everything that had happened with anyone other than his sister.

"How did you two get together in the first place?"

Cas took a few moments to think before he spoke. "When I started at Lawrence last year, I didn't know anyone. I came from a private school and I'd never been at a public school before. It was a lot different than I had expected actually…" He trailed off in a little laugh for a moment. "Raphael was the first to notice me. He was… nice. He showed me around and we became friends. It helped that we had three classes together and he took every chance he could to get close to me. I never thought anything of it until he kissed for the first time. We'd only known each other for a couple of months before then but I—I liked him.

"I had never been in a relationship before, so I didn't really know how things like that worked. It was only about two weeks before we… you know, did it. I didn't really understand that that was probably a bad thing until nearly a month later when I started feeling differently and I talked to Anna about it.

"She was shocked, to say the least, that I'd been letting him control me like that and I realized I needed to do something about it. It took a lot of persuasion from Anna, but I finally broke up with him around Christmas time. He refused to accept it for a long time. I did my best to stay away from him, though. However it took Anna threatening to kill him if he touched me again for him to leave me alone.

"He's still not over it, as you can probably tell from yesterday," Cas finished, eyes distantly watching the house until he turned to find Dean staring at him.

"Cas…" He expected Dean to say something like an apology or to give him a few sympathetic words. Instead, Dean just said, "You're one tough son of a bitch."

Cas just looked at him for a moment until he burst out laughing. Dean looked at him with confusion plain on his face but it took a couple of minutes for Cas to calm himself enough to talk. "I don't see how that makes me tough, but thank you, Dean."

"Look at you, though! All the shit you've been through and you're sitting here like this because all it's done if made you a stronger person," Dean told him seriously.

"I suppose that's the point of hardships; to make you learn." Cas met his eyes and smiled softly. Maybe Dean didn't quite know it yet, but even the things that had happened to him made him stronger and better. He just couldn't see it the way Cas could.

* * *

He took Cas home after lunch, which was nearly the middle of the afternoon, and stopped by the high school to pick up his brother. Sam was quiet, but he seemed to be in a good mood, and Dean felt a little lighter just being in his presence.

"Are you better now?" Sam eventually asked as they pulled into the driveway of their house.

"Yeah," Dean replied, turning off the engine.

"You can talk to me you know, if you want."

Dean glanced over at him. "Thanks kiddo." He leaned over to ruffle Sam's hair and his brother pulled him into a slightly awkward hug due to the fact that they were sitting next to each other in the car still. They went inside together after that and Dean joined his mother in the living room while Sam rummaged through the kitchen for a snack. They sat quietly, Mary's nose buried in some sci-fi novel until Sam came out and told them all about his day. Dean tuned out for a while, content to listen and occasionally nod until he realized that Sam was trying to get his attention.

"Dean? Deaaaaaan? Are you even listening?" Sam asked plaintively.

"Uh, yes?" Dean gave him a shit-eating smile and Sam sighed, though his lips were drawn up.

"I was asking if you could talk to Cas about him talking to Anna to talk to Zar who could give me Gabe's number," Sam said excitedly.

"Woah, slow down. You want what exactly?"

"I think your brother's trying to tell you that he wants your boyfriend's sister's boyfriend's brother's phone number," Mary told him mildly from behind her book. Dean stared at her for a long moment until she glanced up and snickered.

"Gabe's number. I want Gabe's number, Dean," Sam muttered.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place? Jeez, you people and your crazy words. Can't you get it yourself? Doesn't he go to our school?"

"No, I haven't seen him. That's why I'm asking you."

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a twist. I'll try and remember to ask Cas about it. Or you could ask him yourself tomorrow, you know. I doubt he's going to be mad if you tell him you've got a crush on his sister's… boyfriend's… oh whatever the hell he is." Sam blushed a little but he gave Dean an indignant gaze.

"Fine then," he grumbled, but it was obvious he was happy. Dean and Mary shared a knowing look, but they let it slide.

* * *

He dreamed of Michael again that night. Cas had told him to let go, but how could he when the memory wouldn't leave him alone? This dream was different, though. Instead of Michael trapping him, Dean was the one in control.

He held Michael hands above his head, knees on either side of his hips. It was a position Dean had become used to when he below the other man in his nightmares. Michael was staring up at him with lust, anger and… fear. Fear. And Dean understood, because that was how he felt when he was powerless the skinwalker.

Dean never wanted to give up. He never wanted to give in Michael, to stop fighting him. It was just… easier.

Dean Winchester never went for easy. He made everything more difficult, more complicated than it needed to be. But when his only choice was fight and die, or give in and get out… he gave up. Maybe he was only telling himself that to feel guiltier, but he also knew that by doing what he did, he gave his brother and Cas and all of them a fighting chance, which they all, of course, took to get him back. He'd probably never be over it, and he'd remember everything about Michael for as long as he lived, but at least something good had come of it. He hadn't died, and Michael was gone.

For good.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: And shit goes down. Warning for phone sex in this chapter (though it's not really explicit much like everything else in this story, but phone sex is really hard to write so I'm sorry if it sounds.. awkward or anything).

* * *

They went to school the next morning, and the morning after that, until it was finally the weekend. Cas had spent his afternoons with Dean, but the previous couple of nights at his own home, only because he had to adhere to his father's will. He was worried, though, about Dean. Worried he was slowly getting worse and because he was so damn stubborn, he would drift away from Cas.

Cas knew that if that happened, Dean wouldn't have meant for it. He knew Dean cared for him, and he'd gone out of his way to show that and try to make up for the events at camp. Cas had, of course, already forgiven Dean, he could never stay mad at him no matter the circumstances, but Dean was the type to never forgive himself. That part of him was what bothered Cas the most, so he thought to himself that maybe there was the chance he could change that someday.

Dean's behavior aside, Cas was worried about something else.

Michael.

If Michael came back somehow… he didn't even want to think about how Dean would react, let alone he himself. He had this crazy image in his head of the color draining from Michael's hateful face with Cas' hands around his throat. It was a bit sickening, if Cas was honest with himself, but sometimes honesty is not the best policy when it comes to hating someone so much that you think about killing them far more often than is healthy. Cas wasn't a naturally violent person, but if Michael suddenly appeared, he would do everything he could to cut that bastard down. Even if he had to—

Cas was jerked from his thoughts as he saw something that nearly stopped his heart. He was walking on the sidewalk towards Dean's house and he could see neighbors and strangers walking around the neighborhood, too. But… he could have sworn he'd just seen… No, it couldn't be Michael. There was no way. How the hell could he be there? Cas had seen him for just a second, but it was unmistakably Michael.

It only took his a moment of silent contemplation to decide that he wouldn't tell Dean. He hurried his pace as Dean's house came into sight. He rang the bell and Mary answered it, a towel in her hands, calling Dean's name over her shoulder.

"Hi, Cas, honey. You look just you've just seen a ghost. Are you alright?" she asked, motherly worry on her kind face.

Cas plastered a smile on his lips and replied, "I'm fine, thank you."

Dean suddenly came skidding to a halt next to his mother and she quickly moved out of the way as her grinning son took Cas by the hand and dragged him inside. "Come on!" he said excitedly, pulling down the hall and up the stairs to his room.

"What are you so excited about?" Cas asked, sitting on the bed.

"This morning I had to take Sammy to a thrift store 'cause he needed some stuff for a school thing. So while we were there, I found this." Dean spoke quickly, gesturing to a wooden box that sat on his desk.

It was made of cherry wood and it looked a little worn around the edges. Dean opened it and Cas saw that it was an old record player. He stood for a closer look and Dean moved to a stack of vinyls beside it, rummaging through before pulling one out. Dean set the record on carefully and placed the needle on the edge as it began spinning. Journey started playing, and though it sounded a little static-y, it brought a light-hearted smile to Dean's face that brightened Cas' mood.

"It's awesome, isn't it?" Dean breathed, looking at it fondly.

They sat together on the floor, just listening as the album continued. Cas watched Dean and the peaceful happiness that was apparent on his face. It was great to see Dean feeling better, but there was still a cold stone in the pit of Cas' stomach. He didn't want to ruin that happiness. He _couldn't_.

So he smiled and stayed silent, hoping. Praying.

* * *

Dean felt good. Cas had spent basically the whole weekend with him, and he hadn't dreamed of Michael in three nights. He felt rested and happy, and he had Cas, and everything felt _good_ for once. So when he went to school on Monday, he felt like nothing could ever bring him down.

That, of course, wasn't true.

Dean was a Winchester, and something _always_ went wrong for the Winchesters.

Everything was fine at first. Dean walked Cas to his homeroom; he ignored a suggestive greeting form Lisa, who was in his homeroom and his ancient history class and for some reason still tried to make slight advances on him. He even was in a bright mood through Mr. Dick's class. He made it to lunch and sat beside Cas, who was looking extremely stressed as Sam and Jess joined them.

"Cas? What's up?" Dean asked cautiously, eying his boyfriend.

The look on Cas' face was reminiscent of a deer in the headlights as he turned to glance at Dean. "Uh… Dean…" he trailed off.

Dean prompted him patiently, "Yeah?"

"Dean, I was going to tell you. I just—I didn't want you to worry. I didn't think that—"

"Whoa, whoa, Cas, slow down. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Dean it's—"

"Spit it out." Cas didn't say another word, though, and he just glanced to the side of Dean's head. Just as Dean was about to follow his gaze, he heard a voice that sent ice down his spine and his entire body stilled.

"Dean. It's been a while," Michael said smoothly.

Turning stiffly, Dean found Michael standing on the other side of the table from them. His hands were on his hips and there was a triumphant smile on his mouth. He looked just like Dean remembered, young and handsome and utterly evil. Luke stood off to the side behind him, looking pleased with himself, and Crowley stood near him, watching Cas with a hungry grin. It was unnerving, really, in more ways than one.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean growled when his voice returned a moment later.

"What does it look like? I'm a new student here," Michael drawled, the smile on his face never faltering.

"No. Fuck no!" Dean stood up, hands slamming on the table's top. "We got rid of you! How the fuck are you even here?"

"Are you really going to cause a scene here, Dean?" the skinwalker asked lazily. "It's only the second week of school."

"You can bet your damned ass I will," Dean spit back, but Cas' hand suddenly pulled on his arm.

"Not here, not now, Dean," Cas hissed at him.

"We'll figure this out, but this isn't the time." Jess had stood on the other side of Cas and Dean glanced at her. She hadn't been exactly where he had; she hadn't had the same experiences Dean had. But she had been there, nonetheless, they all had, and the look in her eyes said that she remembered every damned second of it. The fear and worry, not knowing what was happening or what could even happen. And Dean knew it was reflected in his own eyes.

"Fine," he snapped, turning back to Michael. "But now that you're here, you have to stay by the same rules as us. You're not going to get us. Any of us."

Michael accepted the challenge with a sly tilt of his lips. "We'll see," he said easily, giving a pointed look at Dean before turning and talking away. All of their eyes followed the skinwalkers across to where they sat at their own table.

"Shit…" Brady muttered, tearing his eyes away to meet everyone else's.

Dean's face was pulled down in a grimace. Cas' hand was still on his arm and Dean stepped away from the table, pulling Cas up by the shoulder. "Come on. We need to talk," he commanded. Cas followed behind him as they went to the side of the building. "Did you know about this?" he asked, immediately cornering his boyfriend.

"No! No." Cas looked down. "I saw him, the other day, when I walked to your house. It was only for a second, but I didn't… I wasn't…"

"You weren't going to tell me," Dean whispered, connecting the dots.

"I just didn't want you to start worrying again. After everything. I didn't know that—"

"It's okay. I get it," Dean soothed, not wanting Cas to get upset, even though he already seemed like he was about to cry. "Sorry, sorry, it's fine." He put a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Hey, look at me. We'll be fine."

"Are you trying to convince me, or you?" Cas asked quietly, finally meeting his eyes. Dean couldn't answer. "Let's go back." They returned to the group and everyone looked at each other with shell-shocked expressions.

"So much for everything getting better," Dean muttered irritably. For the rest of lunch at least one person was always watching the skinwalkers, but they were all subdued, agreeing to meet after school and figure out what they were going to do.

Dean could feel it every time Michael looked at him, it was a feeling he was too accustomed with. But he never looked back.

* * *

"How the fuck could he have even found us in the first place?" Dean muttered angrily. They were all sitting downstairs at Dean's house. Mary, thankfully, was not at home and wouldn't be for a couple of hours at least.

"It's not hard to get into records at a summer camp if you have the right skills," Cas pointed out. Dean stuck out his tongue in a very childish fashion and Cas smiled a little.

"This is fucking stupid, though," Dean groaned. "This is all so stupid."

"Yeah, we know, Dean," grumbled Sam. "So what are we gonna do about it?"

"Well we could fight," Brady suggested.

Jess sighed. "Yeah and that worked out so well before." She pointed at his hand and Brady just grunted in reply. "Seriously, though, what can we do?"

Dean hung his head in his hands. "I don't know. We have nothing to use against them, plus we're all just kids after all."

"Never thought I hear you say that, Dean," his brother mused with a teasing smile. Sam sobered quickly though. "We could try to find evidence; get them to screw up and make a case."

"Maybe, but that would take time. Right now there isn't much we _can_ do," Cas said tiredly, "except try to stay alive." They were all silent for a long moment.

"Great. I was just getting used to not fearing for my life, and now we have to deal with them again," Brady said bitterly.

"We did it before, and now they're in our playing field," Sam told them. "We have the upper hand now."

His optimism was inspiring, but Dean didn't feel any better about the situation they were in. Dean was scared. He didn't know what tricked Michael had up his sleeve, but he knew there was something. He just hoped that no one else would get hurt in the fight, because this time he _would_ fight. He wouldn't make the same mistakes he did before.

"We'll make them pay. We'll do what we can," Dean said solemnly. The others were all looking at him. "We'll fight."

Jess nodded and the rest followed suit. "We'll fight," she repeated with a curl of her lips.

* * *

Cas woke to the sound of his cell buzzing on the table beside his bed. Groggily, he reached over and picked it up, blinking blindly at the screen for a second. "Hello?" he asked into the mouthpiece in a whisper rough from sleep.

"Did I wake you?" Dean's voice came crackling into the darkness of his room.

"Yeah, but it's alright. What's wrong?" Cas said yawning and resting back against his pillows.

"Can't sleep. I… I needed to hear your voice."

"I figured. What are you doing then?"

"Sitting in bed, trying to stop thinking about shit."

"The more you try not to think about something, the more you will."

Dean's breathy laugh filled his ear. "Yeah I guess."

"It's scientifically proven, you know."

"You're such a know it all."

"Exactly." Dean laughed a moment more, but didn't say anything. "Dean…" Cas started after a lapse of silence.

"Were you dreaming about anything?" Dean asked suddenly.

"If I was I can't remember."

"Oh." He was quiet again. Then, "What are you thinking about?"

"You, mostly," Cas replied honestly.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." He laughed lightly.

"Anything in particular?"

"Wishing I was with you."

"Yeah, me too." Dean paused again. "What… what would you do if you were here?"

"I don't know," Cas said slowly.

"You don't know? Really?"

"Dean, are you trying to have phone sex with me?"

"Uh, no? But that's a good idea." He laughed.

"Okay."

"Okay? Cas I was kidding…"

"Last time we had sex you didn't have any nightmares," Cas pointed out bluntly.

"Well, yeah, but this is different!"

"Just because we're on opposite sides of a phone call?"

"Yeah!"

"So you don't want phone sex."

"Well… I mean, if you're offering…"

Cas just laughed and had to cover his mouth to muffle the sound.

"Now you're laughing," Dean said dejectedly.

"I'm sorry, Dean, you're just easy to tease."

"Oh, now you're teasing me. That's unfair."

"How so?

"Because I can't get you back."

"And how would you do that anyway?"

"Tickling you is always fun."

"That's not fun for me."

"You always laugh, though."

"That's the body's natural response!" Cas said indignantly.

"Well how would your body naturally respond if I kissed you senseless."

Cas paused. "I'd return the favor."

"Yeah?"

"I'd push you down and kiss your whole body. I'd make you moan my name."

"Cas…" Dean groaned in reply, low and needy.

"Dean. Take off your clothes." Dean didn't answer, but Cas could hear the rustling noises as he complied. When there was no more sound, Cas called tentatively, "Dean?"

"I'm here," he heard in reply.

"Good." Cas breathed out silently, suddenly feeling a bit apprehensive. It was a little strange to be doing what they were doing over a call, just by talking He usually didn't have to think much, he'd just follow instinct and do what he felt was right. How it was, though, he really had to think about it.

"You okay Cas? We don't have to—"

Cas cut him off with a sharp "no". He took another breath. "Think about… remember how it feels when I put my mouth on your cock," he whispered, not missing the sudden hitch in Dean's breathing.

"So we're really doing this?"

"Yes," Cas said in a slightly nervous laugh. "Just do what I say."

"Okay."

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Are you thinking about it?"

"About what?" Den asked in a teasing voice.

"My hands all over you."

"Where?" Dean breathed, so low that Cas almost didn't hear him.

"You're chest. You're hips. Everywhere."

Dean didn't say anything.

"Dean, are you—?"

"Should I?"

"Yes."

"Okay." They were both quiet for a long moment and Cas pictured Dean in his mind, lying in the dark, his own hands on his body. "Cas…" The whisper of his name was raw and low.

"Think of me. I'm right there with you. My hands, my mouth."

"Fuck, Cas."

Cas laughed in the back of his throat.

"Cas…" Dean moaned.

He knew that voice, that tone. "Stop," he said quickly. "Not yet." Dean made a quiet noise of protest, but Cas knew that Dean would do what he said. "You trust me, right?"

"Yeah, Cas, I do."

"Then you'll do what I say." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

Cas breathed in slowly. "Put two fingers in your mouth." He knew he didn't need to say more, because Dean would know exactly what Cas wanted. He always did. "Start with one, tell me when you're ready."

He could hear Dean's little gasp just a few seconds before he said, "I'm good."

"Go slow at first…" As he listened to Dean's ragged breaths, Cas' hand finally inched down to where he'd been neglecting himself. Soft moans filled his ear from Dean.

"Can I—?" Dean asked a minute later.

"Yes," Cas said in a whisper. Dean was quiet for a long moment until he made a louder, groaning noise, and Cas _knew_.

To a certain extent, Cas hated that Dean was fucking himself on his own fingers where Cas couldn't even see. But he knew that Dean needed the pleasure; he needed the comfort, and Cas couldn't give it to him right then, so his voice was the next best thing. There would be plenty of time later for Cas to be there.

"Cas… I'm gonna…" Dean trailed off in a soft moan.

"It's okay. I'm with you." And he was, stroking himself in the darkness of his bedroom on the other side of a phone, only the distance separating them. "I'm with you, Dean," he whispered again.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: You know, I love you all for the faves/follows and all of that... but you're being really silent (hint hint). Are my updates too far apart? Is it going too slow or fast? Are you guys liking this so far? Questions? Concerns? Seriously I'll be happy with a single word, I'm begging you...

Well, enough of my shameless groveling. No warnings here, but a note that someone asked before about Crowley's nickname for Cas, and that's explained in this chapter. Shit's really starting to hit the fan... More sexy times to come, and explanations, too. Time is going to start passing fairly quickly, though... um, that's about it.

Please, please, for the love of Chuck, review. And P.S. sorry this is a day late. I completely forgot yesterday was Monday D:

* * *

"Lisa, you're partnered with Dean for today."

Dean looked up at the sound of Ms. Visyak's voice saying his name. He glanced at Lisa and fought the urge to groan in annoyance at her sweet smile.

"Alright everyone, get working!"

Dean reluctantly got up, grabbing his stuff to move to the seat beside Lisa. A couple of people threw dirty looks at him, some of which he recognized from summer camp. He wasn't sure if they were looks of jealousy… or disgust. Most people at Lawrence High knew about Alistair's death and the fact that it was in Dean's cabin. Rumors had spread that it was Dean's fault, but he knew a lot of people didn't believe it, especially since the case hadn't gone to court and the officials wholeheartedly believed it had been a rogue wolf and had bought the kids' story about that night. That didn't help the nasty looks, though. Unfortunately, Lisa was one of those people who believed Dean was just an innocent victim.

"How are you, Dean?" she asked with a genuinely concerned expression as he took his seat.

"I'm fine," Dean replied tiredly.

"Are you sure? You've been quiet lately."

"Is that a crime?" Dean snapped.

"No… I was just worried." Lisa gave him the tiniest of glares, which he ignored.

He just sighed. "Well don't be. Let's just get to work."

Dean tried, he really did, to get something done on their project, but he couldn't get his mind off of Michael, especially since he knew he would have to see the skinwalker at some point. Thankfully, the three bastards had all been enrolled as seniors so neither Dean nor any of the others would have any classes with them. That was a bit of a blessing in itself, but the whole situation still sucked for them all.

And it was probably going to get worse.

Very fast.

After first hour, Dean decided he could really use a moment alone, and skipped out of his next class in favor of the boys' bathroom. He stood at the counter, looking down and avoiding his own reflection in the scratched up mirror. His hands were curled around the edge of the sink as he argued with himself over whether he should stay the rest of the day or just head home and deal with his mother's disappointed stare. Just as he'd told himself he could muddle through somehow, he heard light footsteps at the entrance to the bathroom.

"Fancy meeting you here," Michael said with a smile.

"Why can't you just stay the hell away, Michael?" Dean asked, barely keeping a pretense of calmness as he turned, arms crossed.

"Once I set my mind on something, I'll do anything to get it," he replied, stepping closer. Dean tried to back away, but he was already against the counter and couldn't—or maybe he didn't even try to—dodge Michael's hand as it grabbed the front of his shirt.

"You wouldn't dare try anything here," Dean hissed.

Michael was smiling in a way that unnerved Dean more than usual. "I don't have to."

"What do you mean?"

Stepping away, Michael let him go. "I'm going to wait for you to come to me. I'll wait as long as it takes."

Dean took his turn at backing Michael in a corner and pinned him by his wrists to the wall. "That's never going to happen."

"Really? It feels like it might happen sooner than you think." Michael glanced down quickly, and then back up again.

It took Dean a moment to realize that he was _way_ too close to the skinwalker and had the definite beginnings of a hard-on pressed against Michael's thigh. With a snarl of disgust, Dean pulled himself away. "Just get the fuck away. I dealt with you before, I can do it again."

"That ended up so well last time, didn't it? I almost had you," Michael said bitterly, his voice low. With every word, he took a step forward, pushing the small of Dean's back into the counter again. "And you _wanted_ it."

"No, I didn't. You're just a lying piece of shit," Dean retorted.

"Tell me, Dean, when have I ever lied to you?" Michael smiled when Dean couldn't answer. "Buck up and stop lying to yourself, Dean. You'll feel better when you stop denying it."

Dean stared at him in defiance for a long moment before slipping away and grabbing his backpack from the floor. Before he left, he turned back to say, "You're never going to get me. I swear on it." Michael just met his eyes, expressionless, until Dean turned and walked out.

He went straight through the school and to the parking lot where he got into his beloved Impala and huffed out a breath. He sat there for a good fifteen minutes, just trying to get his heart to stop thumping so hard in his chest. Without consciously making the decision, he started the car and pulled out from the lot, heading to the one place that might just bring him a little comfort.

The front door was locked, of course, and so was the back, but luckily Dean knew the garage code and made his way inside the silent house, heading to the familiar bedroom with Holland painted on the wall. He lay down on Cas' bed and stared at the acrylic tulips, sighing out and breathing in the smell of Cas. When he closed his eyes and tried to make his mind shut up, he could almost pretend Cas was beside him.

* * *

When Cas arrived at lunch, he was dismayed to see that Dean wasn't at their table. Even more so when the others had no idea where he was. And when he didn't show up at all for the rest of the day, Cas got really worried. The only good news was that they could see Michael and knew that at least he hadn't been kidnapped or something. The end of the day came and Cas went with Sam to the Winchester's house in hopes he might be there, but Mary hadn't seen or heard from him, and both boys only grew more worried as the afternoon progressed.

"He'll come around. Tonight, probably," Sam tried to reassure him.

"Probably," Cas muttered quietly.

"Are you okay walking home?"

"Yes, thank you." It was nearly dinnertime when Cas left for his own home, but he knew his father had a meeting that evening and wouldn't be home for an hour at least. That turned out to be a very good thing as soon as he saw the Impala sitting in his driveway. Quickly, he called Sam, picking up his pace a little "I found him," he said when Sam answered.

"Where?"

"My house."

"Of course. I'll tell mom. Thanks, Cas."

Cas hung up and headed inside, a little disconcerted by how silent that house was. He went up to his room and found Dean on his bed. Sighing, Cas dropped his things and sat on the edge of the bed next to Dean, looking at his sleeping face. He ran his fingers lightly through Dean's hair. Slowly, Dean woke, blinking in the light from the setting sun that came in from the window and haloed his head.

"What time is it?" Dean asked around a yawn, sitting up.

"Almost seven," Cas replied, watching him with mixed feelings. "We were worried, Dean. We couldn't find you."

Dean hung his head a little. "Sorry. I just… I needed to get away."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." Cas gave him a look. "Really, I just needed some sleep."

"Alright." He didn't want to push Dean, but he knew there was more to it.

"Did you tell Sam I'm here?"

"Yes. I just called him."

"Good. I should probably get back, though. Is your dad home yet?" Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed so he was sitting beside his boyfriend.

"No." Cas paused, watching him. He took one of Dean's hands and held it between his own. "Tell me when you have days like this. Even if you want to be alone, we—I—don't like worrying about you when you disappear."

"Sorry," Dean mumbled, looking at their hands. They sat silently for a moment until Dean suddenly leaned over and put his head on Cas' shoulder, sighing out a deep breath. "Hey Cas? How did your mom die?"

Cas' eyes slid over to him. "I was three years old. She worked for a law firm that was notoriously good at putting the guilty in jail. There was one man who had gone behind bars ten years before. He held a grudge on her and as soon as he got out, he found her and shot her as she left her office one day. He's in jail again."

"I'm sorry," Dean said, looking up at him.

"I don't really remember her. Anna says she was a strict, but wanted what was best for us. My parents are similar in that way," Cas mused, looking at the painting on the wall.

"I should go." Dean stood, not looking at him.

Cas stood with him, blocking his way to the door. "Dean…"

Dean didn't say anything, but met his eyes for just a moment, hands pulling Cas into his embrace, their mouth melding together. It was through that kiss that Cas could feel the words Dean couldn't say.

_I'm sorry._

_I don't want to lose you._

_I _can't_ lose you._

_I hate what I'm doing to you, but I don't know how to change._

They kissed for a long time before Dean pulled away and left Cas standing alone in his room, tasting those unspoken words on his tongue. He didn't know how long he stood there, but eventually he managed to walk downstairs and greet his father as he entered the house.

"How was your day?" Zach asked courteously.

"It was fine," Cas replied in much the same kind of tone.

"Just fine?"

"Yes." Cas sighed inaudibly. He glanced at a picture on the kitchen counter, something he'd seen often but hadn't really thought about all that much.

His parents were smiling, Naomi holding a newborn Castiel and Zachariah's hands on a young Anna's shoulders. They all looked happy, genuinely happy, and it sent a little stab of emotion into Cas' heart.

When did things become so different?

* * *

The rest of the week passed without incidence, mostly due to the fact that Dean went out of his way to avoid the skinwalkers at any cost. He was determined to not let any of them get near him or anyone else. It finally became Saturday and Cas informed him and Sam that they were all going bowling with Anna and had no say in the matter.

Sam was, of course, elated because he would get to see Gabriel again, and Dean was actually glad for the distraction. He wasn't much for bowling, but he hoped it would be fun, and it definitely seemed like it would be when Anna met him with a grin and a promise to kick his ass. Dean just laughed and told her to try.

They arrived mid-afternoon, when there was pretty much no one there, and got two lanes and shoes for everyone. The alley was quiet for the most part except for the occasional snippets of conversation, the clanging of pins, and the mix of music playing above their heads.

They all took turns and Anna was winning by round five with nearly 80 points, though Sam had surprised them all with two gutter balls before landing three strikes in a row, eliciting a cheer from everyone. It was round six when Dean fell into a chair at their table, Anna already sitting across from him.

"How are you, Dean?" she asked, eyes on Zar as he bent to throw his ball.

"I've been better. You?" Dean replied. He was smiling as he watched Sam and Gabriel high five with grins when Gabe landed his first spare.

"I'm good, thanks." Dean glanced at her and their eyes met. "Cas seems worried lately… It's got me wondering, Dean. Did something happen at summer camp? Something you guys aren't telling me? Because I know about your little escapades alone in your cabin—" she winked "—but other than that…?"

Dean grappled for a good excuse, spluttering out, "No! Of course not. Why would you think that?"

Anna shrugged, but before she could say anything, Sam bounded over. "Your turn, Dean," he said, looking bright and happy as ever.

Dean gave a slightly apologetic look to Anna as he stood and grabbed his ball. He stood in the lane, lining up his toes with the proper wood panels. He let out a deep breath and took three steps, letting the ball go. Watching it spin down the slicked lane, Sam moved up behind him and cheered when he knocked down all the pins. He grinned and when he turned back around, he found Anna watching him with soft eyes and a smile. Cas gave him a quick peck on the lips in congratulations, but the euphoria had already faded from him. He just painted on a smile and tried to laugh like it wasn't forced.

* * *

"You've been avoiding me," Michael said none too kindly as he appeared by Dean's shoulder. It had been nearly a month since his time bowling with his friends, and he'd done what he could to keep away from Michael.

Away from the temptation.

"With good reason," Dean replied in a snarky tone. "I don't want anything to do with you." He continued his path in the hallway, the door to Dean's third hour already thankfully in sight.

Michael huffed. "Time's running out, Dean."

"What? What do you mean?" Dean stopped in his tracks. When he looked at Michael, the skinwalker was already walking away, waving over his shoulder at him. Worry was settling in Dean's stomach, but he kept moving as the warning bell rang, making it to class quickly and taking a seat next to a guy named Benny that Dean had recently started becoming friends with since they had three classes together.

"You look worried, brother," Benny said, his familiar drawl giving slight comfort to Dean even though Benny was poking him in the shoulder repeatedly.

"It's nothing," Dean muttered, exhausted. He'd just ducked his head down to rummage in his bag on the floor when Mr. Roman called his name.

"Winchester! Pay attention."

Dean grumbled under his breath, but took out his notebook reluctantly. Benny gave him a little snort and looked at their teacher. Dean let his mind wander, but he was jerked back when Benny slid a folded paper on his desk. He raised a brow at his friend, but Benny just eyed the paper pointedly. Dean opened it, making sure that Mr. Dick wasn't looking.

_Is there something between you and that Michael douchebag?_

Dean stared for a moment before scribbling a quick, _No._

Benny gave it back. _You sure?_

_He's just a creep._ Dean glanced at Benny and the other boy just shrugged, crumpling the note. Dean knew that Benny didn't believe him, but he appreciated that he had dropped it for the moment at least.

When he got to lunch, he felt a little stab in his gut as he realized Cas wasn't there, but it only took a few extra minutes for him to get there, saying that he'd been in the library. Dean didn't know why he was so paranoid, though it probably had to do with Michael's warning that didn't make any sense. It must have been obvious that he was perturbed because Sam gave him a nudge with his shoulder and his puppy dog eyes were asking him a worried question. Dean just shrugged, but his brother wasn't about to let it go it seemed.

"I saw Michael with you in the hall. What did he say?" Sam asked quietly while Cas, Brady, and Jess were all caught up in a conversation of their own.

Dean sighed. He couldn't lie to his brother. "He made some kind of threat, but I don't know what he meant."

"Against you?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. He said before…"

"What?"

"He said before he wasn't going to do anything to me. But today he said that time's running out." Dean clenched his jaw.

"You think he's talking about the rest of us?" Sam glanced at Jess, who was smiling, oblivious.

"Yeah. I mean, it's his style. Using you all against me."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. We'll watch out more carefully now. Who knows what he meant by that." Dean just sighed in reply, his eyes grazing over his boyfriend.

He was thinking of the past weekend, when they'd had almost an entire day to themselves alone in Dean's house and had made the most of it with music, a movie, and a whole lot of sex. They hadn't gone all the way yet, though. Dean wasn't sure if Cas was ready, or if he himself was ready either. On one hand, Dean was a little amazed he had such a sex drive, especially considering he was feeling increasingly empty each day. But Dean was also glad for it, because he felt it helped him, it made him feel better. He hoped that Cas liked it, or at least was okay with how things were. He hadn't said anything thus far about _not_ liking it but neither did he say that he _did_.

Dean's favorite time, when he felt the best with Cas, was always after sex, or when they woke up together in the morning, held in each other's grasp. Cas would smile at him with heavy eyes, his hair mussed up more than usual and evidence of Dean on his skin. The perpetual bruises were what Dean liked the most. Red and purple hickeys that would cover Cas' chest, thighs, and neck… hell he could see one peeking out from the collar of Cas' shirt and he knew there was a matching one on his own neck that Cas had put there and was just starting to fade.

Yeah… he loved Cas.

. . . . .

Cas meanwhile was thinking about something completely different. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he had come from the library, but that's not what made him late to lunch. In fact, it had been one very obnoxious skinwalker that had cost him a few minutes of his existence which he had not been happy to give up.

He'd just left the library, stuffing a book into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder, when Crowley stepped in front of him. Cas slammed right into him and let out a surprised cry, about to mutter an apology just as he realized who it was he'd run into. "Crowley. What the hell do you want?" he'd asked, moving away quickly.

The skinwalker crowded him into the wall. "Nice to see you, too, angel boy."

"Why do you call me that?" Cas clutched his bag to his body, hoping to put some sort of barrier between himself and Crowley.

"Well, you've got a pretty face. And angels are said to be pretty, so I figure I ought to call you something other than plain ol' _Castiel_." Crowley gave him a smirk and put his hand on the wall by Cas' head to lean against. "So, Cassie, you still sleeping around with our Winchester boy? Oh, why do I even ask? I can practically smell his stink all over you." Cas frowned and looked at him with hard eyes, but he didn't reply.

Crowley sighed a little. "Always the silent type, aren't we?" He grinned wolfishly. "Just you wait and see. Time's running out, angel." Crowley's free hand reached up and touched Cas' cheek gingerly, but Cas jerked his chin away and moved out of his reach defiantly. The skinwalker had laughed and walked away, leaving Cas to take a moment to gather himself before making his way to the table.

Cas brought himself back to the present just as Jess shouted something at Brady with a laugh and a smile on her face as they fought over who had the better English teacher. Cas grinned, happily ignoring the obviously strained side conversation that Sam was having with Dean. And anyway, he believed that _he_ had the best English teacher, and proceeded to say so just a moment later.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Notes for this chapter: there's some sex, some background, some mentions of Sabriel, and Dean being somewhat of a pansy ass bitch.

* * *

It was Friday, and Dean was getting handsy. When he'd come up to Cas that morning, he'd pulled him into an empty corner and planted a hot kiss on his lips as a greeting. Normally, Cas wouldn't have minded, but they were at school and he didn't want to be caught. When he voiced his fears though, Dean had just said to "screw them" because he wanted Cas, _needed _Cas right then. It took him forcibly pushing Dean away when the bell rang for him to stop. Even at lunch, Dean's hand had been periodically running up and down Cas' thigh under the table. Cas had given him a few reprimanding looks before he gave up and tried to lose himself in the conversation he and Sam were having about books. He could understand to a certain degree the insistence that Dean was showing. After all, it was Cas that kept telling him he wanted to wait to take their relationship to that final stage and he knew that Dean was getting a bit impatient, though he was respecting Cas' decision thus far.

The day was finally over and Dean all but dragged him to the Impala, shouting over his shoulder that Sam would have to walk home. He wouldn't answer when Cas asked where they were going, but he had a slight smile on his lips as they left the city behind. Dean took him to the nearby lake, to a more deserted part of it closer to the city, and parked at the end of a long dirt road underneath the shade of a grove of trees. He turned the engine off and left the radio on, letting it play through the rolled down windows as they got out. Cas followed as Dean went to the edge of the water, his feet just out of the way of the tide.

"We used to come here when Sammy and I were younger." Dean spoke quietly when Cas was beside him. "Mom, Dad, Bobby, Karen, Sam and me. That was our family. We had a boat, a nice one, and we'd drive it all around until Dad and Bobby found a place they liked so they could fish. Mom and Karen would talk about whatever women talk about and Sam and I would swim around. He used to try and beat me in races, but he never won. He used to be such a tiny little squirt," Dean laughed, a look of reminiscence present on his face and in his eyes.

"You talk about it like it was a long time ago," Cas said softly.

"It was. We haven't come here in three years."

"Why?"

Dean sighed and Cas felt that it was a subject he didn't want to talk about. He was just about to apologize when Dean spoke again. "About three years ago, Bobby was attacked by some thugs. One of them had a knife and he ended up getting stabbed. He's paralyzed from the waist down, now."

"Dean…"

"He hasn't come down to visit since then. We go up there two or three times a year, though."

"I'm sorry," Cas told him, watching the bitter smile that graced Dean's lips for a moment.

"Nah, it's fine. I just miss coming here sometimes, you know?" Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked out over the water, sparkling in the light. It reminded Cas of the lake at camp, this little part of the bigger lake that they couldn't see.

"Yeah…" They stood there for a long moment until Dean turned to him.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Yes?"

"What do you say we make some new memories here?" There was a childish glint of excitement in Dean's eyes when Cas met them.

"How would we do that? It's too cold already to swim." As if to prove his point, a breeze swept over them from the water, carrying the smell of lake.

Dean made a face. "You're just a pansy. It's not that cold."

Cas crossed his arms. "Fine. Why don't you test the waters if you're so keen on it."

Grinning, Dean pulled off his over shirt and tossed it at Cas' face. "I will." He quickly took off his other clothes, leaving them in the sand, before he dropped his boxers and ran to the water. Cas watched him splashing around, laughing. "Come on in!" Dean shouted, waving an arm. "The water's fine!"

"I'm alright over here, thank you," Cas replied.

"Cas I will pull your ass in here if I have to unless you take off your clothes right now."

Cas was tempted to say something else, but instead he just grinned and shook his head, slowly pulling his shirt over his head and toeing off his shoes. If Dean wanted him to get undressed, Cas was going to make it a show. He knew Dean was watching intently as he undid the button on his jeans and slowly slid the zipper down, shimmying out of the material until he was clad in just boxers. He overtly glanced around just to make sure no one was anywhere near them. Taking a few steps forward, Cas took his time slipping out of his boxers as he reached the water. Dean all but tackled Cas once he was knee high in the lake.

"You're such a fucking tease, you know that?" Dean muttered into his hair, grappling with Cas until they were both waist deep. Cas just laughed though and put his arms around Dean's neck.

"Tease? You're the one who hasn't been able to keep his hands off of me all day. Do you know how many times I wanted to fuck right there in the hallway?"

"You pushed me away!" Dean retorted indignantly.

"One of us had to have self-control." Cas smiled slyly. He cut off Dean's reply with an openmouthed kiss, slotting his body up against his boyfriend's. In all honesty, part of him just wanted to get it over with. Get the arousal out of Dean's system, and his own, so that they could just sit back and relax, talk a little, and get out of the water, which was actually a bit chilly. But, then again, he loved Dean, he loved doing things with Dean, and he especially loved being close to Dean. So all in all, it was okay. And _God_ how could he ever say no to those beautiful pouty lips that ravished his skin right where he liked it. And those hands that were sliding up and down his back, ribs, and sides, eventually taking a hold of his hips and pulling their pelvises together, warm skin on skin in the cool water.

"Well, now that we're alone…" Dean trailed off with a wicked grin when he pulled away a little bit.

Cas waited a moment, but Dean didn't do anything else. "Are you going anywhere with that statement?" he prompted.

"You ass!" The older Winchester tugged him backwards until they were both deeper in the water, mouths latched together to swallow each other's laughter.

. . . . .

"I wish we could have just been like this during camp."

"We spent almost all of our time at the lake together."

"Yeah, but I mean not having to worry that some crazy guys were just around the corner or anything."

"They could be here, too, you know…"

"You ruined the moment, Cas."

"Sorry! I'm just saying it could be true."

Dean sighed. "It's unfair, that we have to deal with this shit. Again."

"I know, Dean. I know." Cas shifted, lifting his head from where it had been resting on Dean's chest as they lay together on the hood of the Impala. "Let's just pretend, for tonight, that there's no such thing as skinwalkers. And when we wake up tomorrow we can go back to worrying and trying to find a plan. But until then, please, can we just pretend?"

Dean's eyes met his. "Yeah, Cas. We can." Cas reached up and kissed him lightly before settling back beside him. "So, Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you and Anna close?"

"Yes, I think so."

"You think so?"

"Well, we don't talk very often, but I've always felt as if I could open up to her and she's never been the kind to judge anyone, especially me. I know that if I ever need her she's just a phone call away, and it's the same for her if she ever needs me."

"That's pretty cool."

"What about you and Sam? You seem like you are, but sometimes…"

Dean laughed quietly. "Yeah, he's a pain in my ass half the time, but I love the kid. It's kind of been my job to take care of him ever since… well ever since he was a baby I guess. Did I ever tell you about the fire in our house?"

"No."

"When Sammy was just a tiny little brat, there was some gas leak or something in his nursery and it caught fire. Luckily Mom was just heading in to check on him and got him out. She woke up me and my Dad and handed Sam to me to get outside. Part of the ceiling caved in and she got trapped, so Dad had to help her and it was up to me to take care of my brother. Some firemen showed up after a while just when my parents were coming back out, and they put the fire out. The only damage was in that one room, but we were all safe."

"That's a lot of pressure on a little kid, to take care of his baby brother," Cas mused.

"Yeah, but I did it." Dean's eyes were distant when Cas glanced up at him again. He caught Cas' gaze and smiled a little. "Let's go home, yeah? It's getting dark."

Cas made a groaning sound in complaint, but he reluctantly sat up and slid off the car. Dean caught him in a quick embrace, laying a kiss on his lips before moving around to get in the driver's seat. His hand rested comfortingly on Cas' thigh all the way back.

* * *

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked tentatively as they drove to school the next Monday.

"Yeah, squirt?"

"How do you tell someone you like them?"

Dean glanced at his brother, a smile tugging at his lips. "You just tell them."

"But that seems so… lame."

The elder Winchester brother laughed and nudged Sam with his elbow. "You talking about Jess?"

Sam blushed profusely and replied, "Uh, no, actually."

"Gabe?" Dean had his answer by the bow of Sam's head and the flush on his neck.

"Jess and I are just friends," his brother told him quietly. "But it's not like—"

"I'm not judging! I'm not that much of a hypocrite you know." That riled a little laugh out of Sam.

"I'm serious though, Dean."

"Well, so am I. Seriously just tell him. Buck up and say it to the little jerk's face."

"Dean!" Sam punched his shoulder lightly.

"What? I speak the truth, Sammy!"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"So I just say it?"

"Yeah."

"Is that what you did with Cas?"

Dean glanced at Sam. "Actually, no. He said it first," he confessed sheepishly.

"No way!"

"He was a total pansy about it, too. I had to shut him up otherwise he would have rambled for days." Dean laughed fondly at the memory.

"Dean? Can I ask you something else?" Sam's voice was small and hesitant.

They pulled up in Dean's parking space and he left the engine idling, turning towards his brother. "Yeah, sure."

"What really happened between you and Michael? At camp, I mean."

Dean was silent for a long moment. "Nothing, Sam. Don't you worry your pretty little head. Or, you know, any of your crazy gangly limbs." He finished with a forced laugh and quickly turned off his baby and slid out, onto the rough asphalt. He could see Cas waiting by the gates on the other side of the parking lot. He met Sam at the back of the car and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Trust me, Sam," he muttered.

He didn't say the words itching at the tip of his tongue. _You don't want to know._

* * *

The skinwalkers were getting bolder, it seemed. Cas saw Michael approach Dean multiple times over the next week, though Dean always brushed him off and never stopped to talk, something that lessened Cas' worry just slightly. Crowley however had also taken up talking to Cas sometimes, and that added right back to it. He had the sinking feeling that they were planning something, but he was scared to think of what it could be.

The one thing he was grateful for, though, was that they seemed to be staying away from the younger three members of the group. Life was moving on as usual, with the added stresses of a few creepy creatures, but for the most part, the skinwalkers weren't really impeding on any of their lives. It was weird. By more than one standard. Yeah, the whole skinwalker thing in general was weird, but the fact that they weren't trying anything? It unnerved Cas. When they were at camp, they were at least clueless as to the true nature of the skinwalkers, but back at home, they knew the truth, and all it did was make Cas think it was all leading up to something big. Something bad.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't seem to share that fear.

"Look, man, I'm just glad that they're not getting all handsy and stalking us everywhere," Dean was saying as they walked to the Impala Thursday afternoon. Cas was stoically silent, the gears in his mind turning around a million possibilities.

"They might be," Cas mused quietly.

Dean glanced at him with pursed lips. "Did not need that thought in my head."

"Sorry," he muttered, shrugging. Dean stopped him by grasping at his shoulders as they arrived at the car.

"Cas, I know you're freaking out about all of this, but seriously, I doubt they're planning anything big or horrible. Michael said himself that they're not gonna touch us." Dean's eyes looked into his with forced conviction for a moment before he let go and tossed his bag into the backseat, plopping down in the driver's seat.

"_You_, not _us_," Cas grumbled softly to himself before huffing and sitting on the other side of the bench seat. He didn't say another word as Dean drove them, but instead of heading home, he started onto the highway that would lead them away from town. It didn't take long for them to reach a more rural part of the area, and Dean pulled onto the shoulder, leaving the engine on but setting his hands on his thighs.

"Cas… if I asked you to come away with me, would you?" Dean asked, not looking at him.

Cas studied his profile. His slightly crooked nose, the pout of his lips, the curve of his jaw. "Where would you go?"

"I don't know. Bobby's? Just to get away for a while."

"Dean, you know as well as I do that this isn't something you can just run from and hope it will go away."

"Just answer the question."

Cas hesitated. "Yes," he replied slowly, "I would go with you. But I don't think you should."

Sighing, Dean said, "Just for a weekend or something. I'm sick of being here, around them, and I want to… to get out of it, if only for a while."

"Dean… it's only been a couple of months. If you're feeling like this now, how are you going to survive the rest of the year?" Cas watched him, hands clasped in his lap, his voice not unkind, but worried.

"I don't know! Frankly I don't even know how I'm dealing with it right now. If I didn't have you…" he trailed off. He still hadn't even glanced at Cas.

"Dean, look at me." He waited until Dean had reluctantly turned his head to face him. "We're going to make it through this, okay? Don't make that face at me, I'm serious. Look at me, Dean. You're strong, and good, and you _can_ do this."

Dean's green eyes were heavy with despair as he held Cas' gaze. "Yeah, okay."

Cas put a hand on his jaw and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "I'm here, Dean. I'll always be here."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Dean's hand reached out and grabbed Cas' other one, holding it tightly between them on the seat.

It wasn't the first promise Cas had made that he wasn't sure he could keep. But all he could do was pray, hope and pray that maybe everything would miraculously be alright in the end. Praying was all he had left, but he wasn't even sure who he was praying to.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Warnings for time passing really fast and some sexy times. This chapter is pretty long because the next one is fairly short, but has some really huge moments, for which I will give warnings when I post it.

* * *

Time was passing quickly, so much so that a couple of days later it was already the eve of Halloween and Dean hadn't even expected it. Sam, Jess and Brady were stoked to head around and get candy, and they were still young enough to get away with it. They'd decided to make it a Harry Potter year and were dressed accordingly, Jess with her hair sufficiently frizzy, Brady with bright orange hair dye on his head, and Sam with a lightening scar on his face. They were all hanging around Dean's house, putting the finishing touches on their costumes as they waited for Cas. Neither Cas nor Dean had dressed up, both thought they were a little too old for that, but Mary had decided they ought to accompany the younger three and keep them in line for the night.

The sun was edging towards the horizon as Cas finally showed up and they all headed onto the streets with the rest of the neighborhood kids. There were the regular kinds of costumes: princesses, witches, vampires, superheroes, the usual. But there were also a few pretty good ones that stood out to them, namely a young girl dressed as a big blue box and a teenager in a full werewolf costume, who actually made some very convincing snarls and growls.

The five of them made their way around the neighborhood, not venturing too far, but hitting every house with its lights on, just like everyone before them. It had been nearly two hours of walking and Dean was getting tired, his arm thrown over Cas' shoulder, when they decided to call it a night. They were headed in a circle though and were going back towards the Winchesters' street, stopping by the few houses still lit up on the way. But it was one of the last houses on the way, just two blocks over from home, that they found they really regretted ringing the doorbell.

"Well, well. Hello boys," Crowley said with a grin, leaning against the doorway, bowl of candy in hand.

"You're fucking kidding me," Dean said with an overdramatic flourish.

"What? We're not allowed to hand out cavities on a stick for all the little meat sacks out there?"

Sam glared at him. "Not when you say it like that. Who would even accept candy from you?"

"You'd be surprised, moose."

"Moose?"

Crowley pursed his lips and shrugged. "I like nicknames. It fits."

"Yeah, well we don't. Come on, let's go," Dean said, already turning around to head back towards the street. He pocketed the information of the house in a space in his mind, just in case he'd ever need to know where the skinwalkers were.

"You sure you don't want any?" Crowley called after them.

"Yeah, we're pretty sure," Brady muttered back over his shoulder.

"Suit yourselves! Ungrateful prats…"

They heard the door close and proceeded in silence back towards Dean's house, where everyone was staying the night since it was a Saturday. The three younger ones bounced back into a more excited state quickly and once they got back they spent some time sorting their candy and trading it around before getting cleaned up. Dean demanded payment in sweets for spending his night with them, and after a few loud protests he just took a couple of chocolates from them each and sat back on the couch beside Cas, a triumphant grin on his lips.

The whole lot of them were to sleep downstairs in the living room because there was the most room there and Dean suspected Mary didn't want any funny business happening. It was alright by them, though, because once the Winchester parents retired up to their bedroom, the group had a moment to talk over the new information.

"It's really creepy that they're so close to you, not to mention that they're actually all living in a house," Jess was saying, her voice hushed.

"What did you expect? That they were living in a hole or something?" Brady muttered.

Dean made a face like he'd just thought of something funny. "Well, they are animals after all."

"So not funny, Dean," his brother said.

"Shut up, I'm hilarious." They all snickered into their hands at him in reply.

"But seriously, it is a bit weird," Sam continued.

"If we ever need to get them, we know where to go now, though." Jess sighed a little as if the prospect was not at all pleasant.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Cas said quietly.

"Alright kids, time for bed," Dean said, tossing a pillow at Sam. Mary had left them a pile of blankets and pillows and once they were all distributed, everyone settled in. Brady and Sam were on the floor while Jess was on one couch, Dean and Cas on the other.

After a while, when it was all quiet, Dean felt Cas turn over to whisper in his ear, "Do you really think they're not planning anything at all?" In the dimness, he could just barely see Cas' eyes open.

"I don't know," he breathed back. "I just have to hope not, but honestly they've probably got something in mind."

"We'll make it through, Dean."

"You keep saying that."

"I will continue to until this is all over."

"And when will that be?"

"You know as well as I do that there's no answer for that…" Cas shifted until his hand found Dean's jaw. "Trust me."

"I do." He tilted his face forwards and his mouth found Cas' chin before his lips, making both of their shoulders shake a little in silent laughter.

* * *

Cas' breathy moans were echoing around the Impala and in Dean's head. He was sitting on Dean's lap in the backseat, hands clasped around his shoulders as Dean rubbed their naked cocks together in a motion that took the air from both of their lungs. He reached out with his mouth, capturing Cas' lips in his and muffling those beautiful sounds. Cas rocked his hips forward, pushing against his hand and drawing a rumbling groan from his lips.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean whispered with a dark laugh.

Cas didn't reply.

. . . . .

They lay together quietly in Dean's bed. Cas was tracing designs on the curve of Dean's back as he rested on his stomach. There was a very faint smile on Cas' lips, but it was hidden in the dimness of the night. Cas was happy for the moment, though. He liked just spending a relaxed evening with Dean and falling asleep with him. It was one of the things he appreciated most in life, especially because it was quickly becoming a rare ordeal. He let his fingers come to a rest and he settled in beside Dean, one arm over his waist.

Cas sighed.

. . . . .

Dean was pushing Cas' back into the wall, attacking his mouth with heated kisses and a devilish tongue, ravaging his way across his jaw and neck. Cas' legs tightened around him and he let out a noise that traveled straight down Dean's body. _God_ he loved Cas. His skin, his mouth, his fingers in Dean's hair, his ass, oh he had the greatest ass, and everything else, too.

"You're perfect," he muttered into the skin of Cas' neck.

Cas just pulled his hair and met his lips in another heavy, hot kiss.

. . . . .

Cas stared at Dean's sleeping face. It felt peaceful, with the setting sun shining through his window and Dean's breathing as the only sound in the room. But the peace wouldn't last. It was the same thing, almost every day, for the past few weeks. December was close and the skinwalkers still hadn't tried anything. It seemed their threats were empty and they were giving up. Or else they were simply waiting. Cas was not excited to find out which it was.

Dean's features were relaxed, and he looked a couple of years younger than usual. He looked more like a child. Innocent and free. Not the depressed, suffering person that Cas saw each day. He was so tired, so very tired of it all. The skinwalkers had ruined everything. They ruined camp, they ruined this school year, and slowly, very slowly, they were ruining Dean. Turning him into the very thing that Cas had never wanted to see him become. It was heartbreaking. And no one else but Cas could see it.

And Cas was torn. Right in half.

Would he let himself be used like he had been so many times before?

Or could he man up and do what was right, even if he broke a couple of hearts in the process?

. . . . .

"Anna, I need your help."

"What's wrong, Cas?"

"It's about Dean."

Anna didn't answer, but he heard some faint noise in the background. "I'll be there in twenty minutes," she finally said.

Cas let his phone fall onto his lap where he sat on the couch, knees up to his chin. He didn't know how long he'd been there before he got up the nerve to call his sister, but he was already feeling glad that he did. She would know what to do. She always did.

She let herself in when she arrived, and Cas was glad that she still had her house key for times like this. He wasn't sure if he could really move except to rest his head on Anna's lap when she sat next to him. She didn't say anything; she just waited for him to tell her what was wrong. It was a sort of routine of theirs, it was just how they worked. They understood each other, even if sometimes one made decisions that the other didn't agree on. But they always stood together, as they had for most of their lives.

"He's changing," Cas finally said. Anna's hand was slowly running through his hair and he sighed a little, missing the way that Dean used to do that so lovingly, not too long ago. "I don't think he really realizes it, though. I know that he loves me, but he doesn't show it anymore. We haven't had a proper conversation in a couple of weeks. I was… expecting this, but I hoped that it wouldn't happen."

"You should talk to him," Anna said after a long moment. "You say he doesn't realize it, well make him. I know you don't want to end things, and you're disgustingly in love with him, so try to fix it."

"He's stubborn."

"Yeah, well so are you!"

"What should I say?"

"Tell him what you just told me." She took a deep breath. "Cas, I hate seeing you upset. After what happened with your last relationship… but I think Dean is different. I don't know exactly what's going on, and I doubt you're going to tell me, but he's going through something difficult right now. And while that's no excuse for what he's doing to you, it might help if you tell him how you're feeling and make him see what's happening."

"You think that will help?"

"It's worth a shot. You won't know unless you try Cas. Remember what I told you before?"

"Never mix your drinks?"

Anna nudged his shoulder and they both let out a snort of laughter. "You're your own person," she said soberly. "Don't let anyone use you."

"Yeah… Thanks Anna."

"You're my brother."

"That's your excuse for everything."

"Exactly." Cas didn't need to see her face to know she was smiling fondly at him.

* * *

The doorbell rang and Dean leapt up from the couch to get the door before anyone else could move. He pulled it open to see Cas, shivering a little in the early December wind. He smiled and moved out of the way so Cas could come inside. He leaned in for a welcoming kiss, but stopped short as Cas' pushed him back with a hand on his chest. He looked tired, and sad.

"We need to talk, Dean," he said quietly, looking at the floor.

"O-okay," Dean replied ineloquently, shutting the door again. He trudged behind Cas as they ascended the stairs and headed towards his room. Dean sat on the edge of his bed and Cas claimed the chair that sat by his desk, turning it so that he was facing Dean. "What's up?" he asked cautiously, feeling a sick twist in his stomach at Cas' hollow expression.

"I think we might need to take a break," Cas said in a sigh.

"A break? What do you mean 'a break'?" Dean was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees as he stared incredulous at Cas.

"Over the past couple of months… you've slowly become solely dependent on me. We're barely a couple anymore, I feel like we're just based on sex, and it's tearing me apart."

"But, Cas… I—I mean, I love you though! You can't just say—" he broke off when Cas held up his hand.

"Dean, please, just listen to me." Cas waited until Dean tightly nodded to continue. "This isn't about love. You know that I love you, and it's because of that that I think we need to do this."

"Don't I even get a say?"

Cas looked at him with sad eyes. "You know about me and Raphael. You know why I can't let this go on how it is."

"Can't we at least talk about this? I can change, Cas, just tell me what I'm doing wrong." Dean was pleading. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't lose Cas. He needed Cas. Without Cas he—

Dean froze.

Maybe that was it. He was holding on too tightly. He really was dependent on Cas. He met Cas' eyes, his own wide with understanding. Cas' face was pale, his cheeks looking a little sunken in, and the light in those blue irises was nowhere near as bright as it used to be. He hadn't known—didn't realize—just what he was doing.

"I think it's post-traumatic stress disorder. You found comfort in being with me, and that led to an addiction of sorts, except unlike how most people would become addicted to things like drugs and alcohol, you became addicted to sex, specifically with me."

"It's not just the sex, Cas," Dean said slowly, his eyes still wide. "It's just… whenever I'm around you, it feels _good_ and I don't want that to go away." He let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Cas, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think… I never wanted this. I even—_God_—I even promised you and I—I let you down." His head fell into his hands and despair clawed at his insides.

Cas scooted the chair closer to him and took his hands, making Dean look up at him. "Dean, I don't blame you. I'm worried about you. I don't want to lose you… but I can't be with you when you're in this state."

"Then I'll change. Cas, please, don't leave me. I swear I'll get better. I'll get help."

"How?"

"I'll—I'll tell my parents. Go to a shrink or something."

"What will you tell them? That you were almost raped by a skinwalker?"

"What else am I supposed to tell them? What else can I do? Obviously what I'm doing right now isn't working."

"What did you do in the past when you had issues you couldn't deal with on your own?"

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat that was forming. "My mom. I would talk to my mom. She always knows what to say."

"You could try talking to her. I just think you need something else to help you, too."

"Yeah. You're right." Dean was looking at where their hands were clasped, feeling miserable. He had foolishly been telling himself that everything was fine. He had thought that it was all working out when it really wasn't. "Cas you should have told me. When you first started feeling like this, you should have said something."

"I know..." Cas had regret in his eyes. "I had just hoped that it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. I was wrong."

Dean looked at him, really looked at him. The slouch of his shoulders and the darkness of his eyes. The thin line of his lips and the desperate tightening of his hands that were still around Dean's. Dean wanted to reach out, to pull him into an embrace, but for the first time in a very long time, he was afraid to. He was afraid to touch Cas. Afraid to hurt him.

"What are we going to do about them?" he asked a moment later, his gaze falling towards the floor. "It's because they're here that I'm like this."

"I don't know," Cas whispered.

"I want to kill him. But I don't know if I really can."

"We'll figure something out."

"I don't even know how to kill them."

"Dean." He met Cas' fervent look. "We'll figure it out. For now we just… we just need to start small. Just start with you. Don't worry about them right now; they're not going to do anything."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." They grew quiet again.

"I should go," Cas suddenly said, taking back his hands and abruptly standing.

"Wait—"

"Promise me you'll talk to Mary, okay?"

Dean watched his back as Cas opened the door. "Yeah." He stayed where he was, even as Cas disappeared down the hall, never once looking over his shoulder.

. . . . .

It was probably almost an hour later that Dean glumly made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his mother was preparing some sort of meat for dinner that night. John had taken Sam out for some sort of errand apparently, for which Dean was glad because he really would hate it if his brother or father walked in while he was talking to Mary. So he just sauntered in and leaned his elbows on the edge of the counter to watch Mary cooking.

"What's wrong, hun?" she asked, looking at him while her hands barely paused in their ministrations of rubbing various spices on what Dean could now identify as a flank steak.

"I think Cas just broke up with me," he muttered miserably.

"What happened?" Her eyes were trained back on the steak, but Dean knew she was paying close attention.

Dean sighed out a long breath. "Mom, there's something that we never told anyone about what happened at camp."

"What do you mean?" There was a darker tinge of worry in her voice.

"Well there were these… _guys_, and they, I don't know, had this weird infatuation with me and they basically were stalking us the whole time and threatening Cas." Dean took a breath. He was talking slow, picking his words as he went. "We got into this fight, me and the other guys, and we thought they were going to leave us alone. But they transferred to Lawrence High this year and, uh, it's just…"

"So Cas broke up with you because there are other _guys_ in your life now?"

"No, God no. When you say it like that… No." Dean cleared his throat. "They're just freaking me out, and I've been taking it out on Cas and I didn't really notice until—" he broke off, looking at the countertop.

Mary moved to the sink and washed her hands, drying them on the apron she was wearing. She leaned against the counter on her hip and looked at her son. "Honey, I know Cas loves you, and I'm sure he just wants what's best for you…"

"He told me he can't be with me unless I get help. So this is me getting help," Dean sighed out.

"So what do you want to do? Get a therapist? Talk to the school? I could talk to their parents—"

"No!" Dean quickly cut her off. He continued more mildly, "Um, I don't know. I mean I don't really think the school could help, and you know I'm crap at talking about feelings and stuff."

"Well do you want my advice?"

"Yeah."

"Talk to your brother." Dean gave her a blank look, masking his initial fear at her suggestion. "You know he adores you and he's the least judgmental person I've ever met, which is saying something considering I'm a lot older than you and I even birthed the kid." Dean cracked a smile at that and Mary reciprocated it, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. "He's the best person I know that you can talk to, and you've always seemed to be better at opening up family, or at least your brother and me. We both know how much of a hardass your father can be sometimes. So give him a try, okay?"

"Yeah, alright."

Mary moved towards him and enveloped him in a hug. "You know I love you, Dean, and I'm here for you."

"Love you, too, Mom," Dean whispered into her shoulder.

* * *

The following day was a weekday, so Dean reluctantly went to school, wondering what would happen with Cas. He found that he didn't really need to worry about that though, at least until lunch, because Cas showed up late and they didn't see each other at all until lunch. Cas was already sitting at the table, squished between Sam and Jess, leaving Dean to sit across from them all, next to Brady.

It went on like that for a week. If the other three noticed, they didn't say anything to Dean. And Dean was still putting off when he'd have to talk to his brother like Mary had suggested.

It was already the last Monday before winter break would begin and Dean was still amazed that time seemed to be flying. Just as he was leaving behind his locker in favor of his beloved Impala at the end of the day, he was stopped by two people he really didn't want to see. He was going to take Cas home for the first time since their talk the previous week, and he really did _not_ need this.

"Hey, Dean," Luke said in greeting, a sly smile on his lips as he and Crowley crowded into his space.

"How are you, dear?" Crowley cooed into his face, getting far too up close and personal.

"Peachy," Dean replied with a sarcastic sort of smile.

"That's good to hear. We haven't seen or heard much from you lately. And you know, you and angel boy… are you two little pups in a fight or something?" Crowley asked innocently.

Dean just narrowed his eyes. "And why would you think that?"

The skinwalker pursed his lips. "Just a wild guess. Wouldn't want our poor Cas feeling lonely and sad just because big bad Michael is stealing away his precious Dean."

Distantly, Dean had the sensation that Crowley was trying to distract him. But it was working too much for him to really care. "Oh shut it," he spat, shoving at Crowley's chest.

Crowley backed off with his hands up and a surrendering expression on his face. "Alright, fine. Come on, Luci, let's leave the little bird to fly home."

Dean glared at them as they wandered off down the hallway. He thought he saw Luke give something to Crowley, but they were too far away for him to tell what it was. So he just grumbled to himself and slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out towards the parking lot.

The lot was mostly empty by the time Dean made it to his Baby. He knew that Sam had gone home with Brady to hang out, so he was left to sit and wait for Cas. It was odd, though, because Cas was normally waiting for him after school. Cas was never late.

"Maybe he's talking to a teacher or something," Dean muttered under his breath, sliding onto the seat and rolling the window down so he could rest his elbow on the door and watch for Cas in the mirror. He was held up by a teacher. That had to be it. Dean would just sit and wait for him to come out.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: WARNING this chapter contains a rape scene. It's not very explicit, and mostly deals with the emotional part of the experience. I encourage you to read it because of that (it has some important revelations), but if it makes you uncomfortable, please don't! It is the first part of this chapter, and ends just before the line break if you do skip it.

* * *

Cas was dawdling. He took as long as possible to gather up his things from his last class before heading towards his locker to stand there awkwardly for a few minutes, trying to decide if he really wanted Dean to take him home or not. He wasn't really sure if they were still dating or not. He definitely loved Dean, that was a given, but they really hadn't been alone at all since he'd said they needed some space, and they hadn't kissed or touched or anything like that. It made him feel a little better that Dean was respecting his decision, but Cas himself wasn't sure where they were anymore. As he was looking for a conclusion, though, his phone buzzed from inside his pocket and he opened a text from Dean.

_Come to room 112. Please._

Well, that was weird. Dean normally would have just been waiting for him at the Impala, but maybe something was wrong. "Please"? Dean rarely ever said that. Something must really be wrong…

Against his better judgment, Cas slammed his locker closed and headed towards room 112. Needless to say, he was more than slightly dismayed when room it turned out to be a supply closet. Sighing, Cas opened the door, ready to give a good "seriously, Dean?" look. But before he could, he was surprised by a hand shooting out and grabbing the front of his shirt to pull him into the small room.

A disgustingly familiar voice said, "Hello, angel boy."

Oh, _shit_, was all Cas could think. "Crowley? What the hell are you doing?" he exclaimed in shock as the skinwalker shut the door with a _click_ of finality.

Crowley dangled something shiny in front of him that Cas recognized as a phone in the dim lighting. "You know, it was surprisingly easy to jack Dean's phone off of him. Too easy. All I had to give him was a little… distraction." He smiled dangerously but Cas didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply.

"What do you want?" he asked instead.

"Well, I suppose you could say it's revenge. After all, I still haven't gotten you back for stabbing me in the fucking shoulder," Crowley growled with a definite edge to his voice.

"I still don't regret doing that. And you seem to have healed fine, anyway." Cas knew he was treading thin ice, but really, if Crowley wanted to fight, it was painfully obvious who would win.

"Oh, I'm just fine, thanks." The skinwalker suddenly grabbed Cas and shoved him face first into the wall, eliciting a breathless grunt from Cas, who screwed up his face at the tight grip that Crowley was using to pin his arms. "In fact, I've been given permission to show you just how perfectly fine I am."

"What are you going to do?" Cas asked through clenched teeth, his cheek being painfully ground into the plaster.

"Why don't you just sit tight and see, hmm?" With that, Crowley let go of one of his arms, just to take a hold of the waistband of Cas' jeans and pull them down forcefully to his knees, popping the button off in the process. His fingers grazed over the fabric of Cas' boxers, leaning up to whisper in his ear. "You know, I always took you for a briefs kind of guy. The whole tightey-whitey momma's boy kind of thing."

"My mother is dead," Cas hissed in reply. Crowley just laughed and pulled the fabric down, baring Cas' skin to the cool air. He sucked in a breath, trying to will away the burning that was already forming behind his eyelids. Just Crowley's touch was enough to made him shudder in the worst possible way, not to mention the thought of what he _knew _was about to happen to him.

"You know what I'm going to do to you, right?" Crowley whispered to him. Without waiting for an answer, he added, "I hope you realize you can't fight me either. So I expect you to stay right here, and take it like the filthy whore you are." Cas didn't make a sound except for the ragged breath he was attempting to inhale. He heard a zipper being undone, though he couldn't see behind him at all. All he had was the view of the door and Crowley's hot breath in his ear. He felt something warm on his backside and swallowed the whimper of fear that wanted to leave his throat. And then—

Pain.

White-hot and terrifying because he knew what was happening, and he was so fucking _scared_ that he snapped his mouth shut to keep from making any noise. Behind him, Crowley sighed.

The pain faded, to just a slightly burning pins and needles kind of feeling.

And then his body was being ground into the wall as a fresh wave was poured into his nerves and washed through his entire being. He couldn't help the cry that tore itself from his throat as his hands curled to fists, being held down by an iron grip.

He was helpless.

And it hurt like fucking hell.

So he thought of Dean.

Dean, with his forest green eyes that could somehow hold the look of both a broken man and a brave warrior at the same time. Those eyes that would show such warm love and devotion. But they could also show the cold, hard nature of a man who's been through hell and back.

Lights flashed behind his eyelids as he was rammed into the cold plaster again and again.

Dean, who he hoped and prayed would realize that Cas was in trouble. That Cas needed him. Prayers were all he had left at that moment.

Wave after wave crashed against his limp body. He gave up the fight before it had even started. He never stood a chance anyway.

Maybe that was how Dean felt when he was trapped by Michael?

Cas could barely feel any longer. There was the warmth on his cheeks that he knew was just the tears spilling over, falling down his nose and into his mouth, open with breathless, panicked whimpers that he had no control over.

Dean.

There was the uncomfortable tightness of the grip around his wrists, that he knew would leave bruises, but at the moment, it was just too small a pain compared to what was radiating from his bones.

Dean.

His legs, his hips, were screaming.

Dean…

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he became numb.

He didn't even realize that he had been let go of until he was already curled in a ball on the floor. Murmurings from a voice that positively oozed evil met his deafened ears. And then he was alone.

* * *

Dean was startled out of his own head by someone suddenly appearing next to his car. He jerked upright from slouching in the seat and glanced through the open window to see Michael, a smug smile on his stupid, cruel face.

"What do you want?" Dean asked, getting out of the car to lean against it with his arms crossed.

"I'm just returning something," Michael said, pulling out a small and shiny object from his pocket and tossing it towards him. Dean caught it easily and turned it in his hands to see that it was his own cellphone.

"Why the hell did you have this?"

"A friend took it and asked me to give it back." The skinwalker's voice gave nothing away.

The pieces came together as Dean glared. His eyes grew wide. "What did you do? What did you do!" he cried, stepping up to Michael with his hands in fists and fire in his gaze.

Michael's smile never faded. "_I_ didn't do anything." He turned and walked away, leaving Dean staring after him with a terrible feeling clenching at his gut.

His eyes turned back to his phone and he checked his calls but there was nothing weird. There were no new messages, either. He was about to give up when he checked the sent messages and froze.

"Room 112? What the hell?" Dean muttered to himself. His mouth twisted and he shoved the device into his pocket, taking off at a run back into the halls of the school.

He ran around in what felt like circles for what seemed like a long time until he finally found the right hallway and then the right room. Skidding to a stop, Dean took a breath before he opened the door. A soft cry fell from his lips when he saw Cas lying on the floor, his clothes torn halfway off, and shivering like crazy with his hands covering his face.

"No, no, no," Dean whispered, rushing in and falling to his knees. "Cas, Cas!" he called, unsure if he should even touch him. Cas didn't move though except for his constant shuddering breaths. "Cas, baby, look at me. Talk to me, please." He looked over Cas' body, horrified to see bruises on his bared hips and his wrists.

He slipped out of his jacket and laid it over Cas, gingerly picking him up by the shoulders and trying to get him to stop covering his face. "Cas, please, let me help you," he said, voice breaking. Cas didn't say anything still, but he nodded, still shielding his face, and Dean could see tears steadily dripping down onto his neck as he attempted to fix his clothes.

"Cas, I'm gonna pick you up. It's probably going to hurt more but just… just bear with me, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer, but hooked his arms under Cas' shoulders and his knees to pick him up. Burying his face into Dean's shoulder, Cas finally moved his arms, just to put them around Dean's neck and hold onto him tightly.

He quieted as they moved through the empty halls and towards the Impala. They were just starting across the lot when Cas whispered, "I'm sorry," so quietly that Dean almost didn't hear him.

"Don't say that. You have nothing to be sorry for," Dean replied, staring hard at his car as he kept moving, glad that Cas was actually pretty light.

"I… I was mad before, when you told me that you gave up when you were with Michael. But, I understand now, why you did." Cas' voice was rough and broken and Dean hated it.

"I'm gonna take you to the hospital," Dean said, opening the back door of his car and helping Cas settle across the back seat.

"No, don't. Just take me to your house," Cas told him from underneath Dean's jacket, which he was holding around himself as a blanket. Dean was leaning against the door frame, looking down at him. Now that they were in the sunlight, and Cas had stopped hiding his face, Dean could see that one side of it had been ground down and was bleeding lightly. Like road rash. It made him feel sick.

"Cas you were just—" Dean broke off, not wanting to say it, knowing Cas probably wouldn't want to hear it either. "I'm taking you to a fucking hospital."

"Dean I'm okay. And my dad will kill me if I go to a hospital."

"What the hell are you going to say to him? You've got bruises and your face… Cas, you need a hospital. That's where you go when shit like this happens."

"Dean, please, I'll be fine. Just take me to your house. I can't go to hospital." Cas had raised his head and was now looking at him with watery eyes and trembling lips.

"Fine. But I'm not going to hide you forever, and I'm not going to hide you from my mom. She knows some first aid. She won't tell your dad if we ask her not to." Dean grimaced, but he got into the front seat and drove back to his house, still thinking it would be a much better idea to take him to a hospital.

. . . . .

Dean held him by the shoulders as Cas limped painfully into the house. Sam was still at Brady's, but Mary was in the sitting room with a book in her hands and she jumped up as soon as she saw them.

"What happened?" she asked frantically, moving towards them.

"Cas, he—"

Cas cut him off by saying quickly, "I fell." Dean stared at him for a moment, but Mary seemed to accept it and motioned them towards the kitchen where she grabbed a box of first aid supplies from the cabinet. He was still holding Dean's jacket, and he winced when he sat down at the table. Dean frowned deeply and stood close to him.

Mary returned, alcohol pad in hand to start wiping at Cas' cheek. It had only bled a little, but looked somewhat like ground beef and it hurt Dean just to look at. "That should get better in just a few days, but keep it clean. Any other cuts or bruises, sweetheart?" Mary asked softly, looking into Cas' eyes for a moment.

"No, just some bruises on my arms, but I should be fine." He surreptitiously pulled down his sleeves a little more. "Thank you." He glanced at Dean. "I think I'll go rest for a while if that's alright."

"Yeah, sure, you can use my bed," Dean said, watching him carefully as Cas left the room. They could hear his footsteps on the stairs.

"He didn't fall, did he?" Mary turned to her son. Dean's eyes met hers and he didn't have to speak for her to know the answer. "What happened?"

Dean sat heavily in the chair that Cas had just vacated and Mary sat beside him, giving him an expectant look. "I was waiting for him after school. I was gonna take him home, but he didn't show up. Those guys I told you about… I don't know which one did it, or if it was just one, but he…" Dean took a shuddering breath.

Mary suddenly stood and moved towards the counter to pick up the phone. "I'm calling the police."

"Mom, no! You can't!" Dean leaped up and grabbed her hand to keep her from dialing.

"Why not?"

Her son sighed. "Look, it's complicated, okay?"

"How? Your boyfriend was just—"

"I know, Mom! Please, just, don't call the police."

"Unless you tell me what's really going on right now…" she let the threat fall, her tone menacing.

Glaring at her, Dean relented. "You may want to sit down for this." Mary didn't move except to set down the phone and raise a brow at him. "Okay, well, have you ever heard of skinwalkers?"

Mary's eyes grew wide. "Where did you hear about those?"

"You know what they are?" Dean was incredulous.

"_You_ may want to sit down for this, Dean." Her son still looked at her in shock, but he fell into a chair when she pushed at his shoulder. "There's something you don't know about my family."

"Grandpa Samuel and Grandma Deanna?"

Mary nodded. "And their parents, and their parents' parents, too." She took a breath. "We're something called hunters."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Here's another long one to make up for that short one. But I just had to give you guys that cliffhanger! So, there's probably going to be three, maybe four, more chapters. I have it all planned but I don't have it all written.

Also, I'm posting this a little early, but I'm sure none of you mind that. I might be posting the next chapters a little faster than usual, just because I'm having a lot of free time and I want to get this finished soon so I can get to work on some other stuff that I have in the works for this summer.

* * *

"Hunters?" Dean asked dubiously, raising his brows.

"Yes. As kids, we always told you that things like ghosts, and vampires and everything that goes bump in the night is all fake. Well it's not. Hunters hunt these things. Your grandpa and grandma didn't die in an accident all those years ago. It was actually a group of demons. They got the better of them." Mary's voice grew sad, but she was watching him as if she expected him to refute everything she was saying.

"That's not very surprising, actually. So even stuff like werewolves and the Hulk are real?"

Mary laughed and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Not the Hulk. But yes, vampires, werewolves, demons, ghosts, ghouls, skinwalkers. Which brings us back to the beginning." Dean swallowed and his face fell into a dark frown. "So these boys you were telling me about aren't just boys, I'm assuming."

"Yeah. And they're not technically boys either, but they look like it."

"Okay, I need you to tell me everything, from the beginning. Don't leave out the gory details just because I'm your mother." Dean looked at her for a long moment, debating whether to just retract the whole thing or not. But, then again, she was a _hunter_ and that meant that she could help. Or so Dean hoped.

So he told her everything, from the beginning, and he didn't even leave out any gory details.

Mary sat patiently by, sometimes asking a question or two, but mostly she just let Dean talk. When he was finished, she had a contemplative look on her face and was fiddling her fingers together. Finally she spoke, but her voice was heavy. "You know what has to be done, don't you?"

"I don't know if I can." Dean was looking at the floor.

His mother reached across the table to put her hand over his. "I'm going to help you, honey."

"Can't you just—?"

Mary shook her head. "It's been over twenty years since I've been anything but a housewife. But don't you worry, I've still got some numbers I can call." She smiled at him. "Go check on Cas, I need to find a few things. I'll also talk to your brother when he gets home."

Dean nodded and stood, allowing his mother to pull him into a hug and kiss his cheek. He was just walking out of the kitchen when he turned back, glancing at Mary. "Hey, Mom? Was Dad a hunter, too?"

Mary gave him a small, sad smile. "No. He's the reason that I left that life in order to be normal."

Dean muttered a small, "Oh," and turned again to leave. He walked slowly to the stairs and was tempted to just simply leave and find a quiet place to park his car and think. But, instead, he made his way towards his room and only hesitated for a moment before entering.

Cas was lying on his side on the bed, curled into himself. He had Dean's blanket pulled over him so that only his hair was visible. Dean closed the door quietly and toed off his shoes as he made his way to sit on the edge of the bed. He almost reached out to touch Cas, but figured that that might not go over well, so he just sat, looking at the locks of hair that were splayed over his pillow.

"Cas, I—" he tried to speak after a moment, but Cas cut him off.

"Please don't make me talk about it."

Dean gaped a little. "I—I wasn't going to." He fell silent.

"Did you tell Mary the truth?" Cas asked softly.

"Yeah. She kinda figured it was something else. I, uh, she just told me something, and I think you need to hear this now."

"What?"

"She told me that she used to be a hunter. Like she used to kill stuff like ghosts and vampires and… skinwalkers, too. All that stuff is real; though I guess after all we've seen that was kind of expected."

Cas pulled the blanket off of his face just enough to peek at Dean through one red-rimmed eye. "… Used to?"

"Yeah, she said it's been years. But I told her everything, and she also said that she knows some people, and I guess that means other hunters. So, I don't wanna throw out any half-assed hopes right now, but I'm thinking that we're going to get some help soon." Dean looked away from him. "I'm just… I'm just sorry that it had to go this far for this to happen."

Cas didn't answer for a long time. When Dean looked at him again, he'd uncovered most of his face and was looking stoically at the ceiling. "I'd like to take a shower, Dean," he said finally.

"Yeah, of course. Uh, do you want me to take you home or—?"

"I'd rather stay here, if that's okay."

"Sure. I'll grab you some clothes." Dean stood and started rummaging around in his drawers and closet, quickly gathering a pile of clean things for Cas to change into. Meanwhile, Cas was sitting up with a grimace on his face. Dean glanced at him as he braced his hand on the wall and stood carefully. He was about to say something else when Cas moved past him and took the clothes from his hands before heading down the hall towards the bathroom.

"Do you think you'll need any help?" Dean asked cautiously, following him.

Cas paused, bathroom door handle in his hand. "I don't know," he said softly.

Dean looked at him. "I'll stay just in case." Cas nodded gratefully and they both went in. Dean started the water as Cas stripped out of his shirt.

"Dean." He heard his name behind him, and turned to see Cas with his chest bare and his pants around his ankles, a frustrated expression on his face. Dean couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips and he crouched to help Cas. He sobered quickly though as his eyes glimpsed the dark bruises forming on the front of his hips and around his wrists. As if noticing Dean's attention, Cas crossed his arms loosely in front of him as Dean stood again. Cas was looking at the floor, and Dean reached up a hand slowly to touch his face, but Cas flinched away before it even came into contact.

"Sorry," Dean mumbled, dropping his hand and moving around Cas to sit on the counter and wait. He didn't look as Cas stepped out of his boxers and into the shower. The curtain closed and he sighed out a little, shutting his eyes and listening to the sound of the water as it hit Cas' skin.

He felt so helpless. He couldn't even help himself when he needed to against the skinwalkers, and then he didn't help Cas. He felt useless and stupid and just God-awful. And seeing Cas' body didn't help that. Not at all. He knew he was the indirect cause of those bruises, and the red around those eyes, and the trembling of those lips.

Angrily, Dean hit his leg and hissed out a quiet curse. He was supposed to protect Cas. He was supposed to make sure that the only marks on that body were ones of love and lust and not anger and the desire to harm in the worst way possible. He was supposed to hold Cas close and put himself in danger first to keep Cas out of the fray. He was supposed to be better to Cas, and it was because he'd fucked up that Cas was now damaged, possibly beyond repair. It was his fault. It always was.

He heard a thump from the shower and a muffled sob. "Cas?" he called out tentatively.

"I'm okay," Cas replied, voice thick and scratchy.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Dean returned his attention to the floor. Cas stayed under the spray of the water for half an hour. Dean let him be. He called out a couple of more times just to make sure he was okay, but every time, Cas replied that he was fine. When he was finished, Dean held out a towel to him and wrapped it around his shoulders. There was a serious expression on his face and he thought a moment about how if it were a normal day, he would have been all over Cas. He'd undressed this body and seen it naked enough to know every single inch of it. But as it was, the discoloration of patches of his skin and the way his hair was dripping down his pale cheeks like tears only made Dean ache to just wrap him up in his arms with a warm blanket and never ever let him go.

Instead, he just helped Cas with a pair of boxers, some sweatpants and one of Dean's old, soft tees, rubbing the towel over his head when he was dressed to dry his hair.

It was painful for Dean to see him like that. He just looked so frail like he was about to curl up into himself and fall to the floor at any moment. It was physically painful for Dean to just look at him. His chest ached and his jaw clenched and he was using a lot of self-control to keep himself from just trying to touch Cas. Every time he moved it seemed like Cas would flinch at him, and he had to try not to touch his skin even while helping him pull on his shirt.

He was so used to Cas barely even reacting when Dean touched him. Just minor things, like a hand on his shoulder or waist, or a brush of fingers against his ear or the palm of his hand, the little things that Dean did sometimes just to remind himself that Cas was there beside him. He almost reached for Cas' arm as they left the bathroom, but had to remind himself not to.

In the hallway, Dean could hear a few voices in the kitchen and picked out his brother's among them. He turned to Cas. "Do you want to rest more?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Cas said, not looking at him.

"I need to talk to Sam real quick, but I'll be right back."

Cas grabbed his hand, fear in his eyes. "Wait—"

Dean looked at their joined hands and then met Cas' gaze. He put his free hand on top of Cas'. "It's okay. I'll just be a minute." They stared at each other for a long moment before Cas abruptly took back his hands and nodded, moving towards Dean's room. Dean quickly descended the stairs and went into the kitchen to see his mother sitting across the table from a very shell shocked Sam and Brady.

"Dean, just in time," Mary said with a smile in his direction. "I was about to find you to see how Cas was."

"I'm guessing you already told them?" Dean asked, motioning vaguely at Sam.

Mary nodded. "About both things."

Dean nodded and glanced at his brother, who was just gathering himself together again. "Yeah, um, is Cas okay?" Sam asked, blinking at him.

"Yeah. I think he's gonna stay here for the night, though. He's kinda…" Dean trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Just let him be for a while, okay? And whatever you do, don't touch him." He directed his words at everyone and a chorus of nods responded to him.

"Has he talked to his father?" Mary asked, laying a hand on Dean's arm. Dean just shook his head. "I'll call him in a while then."

"Thanks."

"I'll bring dinner up for you two later, too."

Dean nodded in thanks. He turned to Sam. "I'm guessing you were already planning on calling Jess. Would you call Anna for me? Just to tell her about Cas. But tell her not to come over tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam said with a sympathetic expression. Dean thought he was about to say something else, but he didn't stick around to hear it and promptly turned to leave the room and head back up the stairs.

He returned quietly to his room where Cas was once again lying down on the bed. He sat up when Dean entered, leaning his weight on an arm. They were both still, watching each other for a long minute until Cas sighed and relaxed down against the pillows again, his eyes sending silent assent for Dean to join him. So he did.

Dean left plenty of space between them, resting his cheek on his palm and holding himself up on his elbow. He wasn't sure what to do with his free hand, so he was glad when Cas tentatively curled his fingers over it after a minute. They stayed like that for a long time, long after Cas had closed his eyes and seemed to be asleep. Dean watched him the entire time, constantly telling himself to relax because he would get worked up every time his eyes glanced over the beat up side of Cas' face.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but it didn't feel like all that long before Mary gently knocked on the door and Dean quietly slid from the bed to take the tray from his mother. There were two bowls of chili and a few pieces of bread for them each, plus a couple of pills that he assumed were for Cas. Dean thanked her quietly and she glanced towards Cas, then back to him. Dean shook his head. She gave a sad smile and brushed his shoulder with her hand before shutting the door quietly.

Dean put the tray on his desk and turned back to see Cas sitting up and watching him. "My mom made chili. Want some?"

Cas nodded and Dean brought him a bowl and the pills. He grinned when Cas wolfed it down, along with the majority of the bread and half of Dean's bowl, too. When he was done, he gave Dean a sheepish smile and the excuse that he hadn't eaten lunch that morning. They sat on the end of the bed together, both of them with their gazes set on each other, but not meeting eyes.

It was Cas that spoke first. "It's not your fault," he whispered, almost as if he was afraid to say the words aloud.

"Yeah it is," Dean replied instantaneously.

Cas shook his head. "I couldn't protect myself…"

"I should have been there to protect you."

"You can't do everything Dean."

"I can try." Dean finally met his eyes with a hard stare.

Cas looked down. "I should have expected this. If I had…"

"If you had what? Known they would have stooped to this level? Who would know that? None of us were expecting it, and you can't blame yourself for not."

"But I can! If I had done something. Tried to fight. Tried to get away or—or something."

"Cas, stop. You have no reason to be beating yourself up over this. This was not _your_ fault." Dean was watching him carefully, so even though the room was dim, he could see when a tear dripped off the end of his nose. "Hey, hey. Cas…" Dean knew he didn't have words. He wasn't good at comforting. Cas was the one who always knew what to say. Dean… he just used actions. So against his better judgments, he put a hand over Cas'.

He didn't know how it happened, or how long it took them to get there, but sometime later they were both lying in the middle of the bed together. Cas had his head under Dean's chin and his arms clinging around Dean's body, and Dean just held him close, muttering soft coo's and gentle words into his hair.

"We'll stop this, don't you worry. We're getting help soon, and it'll all be over. Just sleep, baby, just sleep…"

. . . . .

Cas felt awful. Not just physically, though his body felt utterly beat up and exhausted. His hips and wrists ached and his cheek still stung sometimes, especially when he accidentally touched it or scratched at it because he often forgot he was even injured there. The pain pills had helped him a bit, though. But mentally, he felt worse than his he thought his body ever could.

He was so confused, he could barely even think about what he was supposed to think or do after that kind of thing happens. He knew he probably should have had Dean take him to a hospital, but at the moment, and even as he was thinking about it, he felt such deep embarrassment and shame. He could never let his Dad know what had happened. He would go crazy. And if he was in a hospital, he would constantly be bombarded with worried nurses and eerily calm doctors, surrounded by the pristine sterility of it all. Even thinking about it, he knew it would make him go insane.

No, what he needed was someone he trusted to take care of him. And much to his chagrin, that was Dean. He didn't want Dean thinking they were back together, because he still wasn't sure how he felt about that. And as it was, he definitely would not have been able to deal with any sort of romantic relationship in the state he was in.

But he needed Dean.

So he clung to Dean that night, afraid to be alone.

That was normal, wasn't it? He didn't want to be alone, and for good reason. What happened in that room… it kept replaying over and over inside of his head. The ghosts of hands and tendrils of pain lanced sharply through his mind and his body. He was constantly reliving every detail.

When he was in the shower, it had been even worse. He could see the bruises left on his skin, but no matter how much water ran over him, those marks weren't washed away. He didn't cry, though. He couldn't. When it happened, it was the pain that made him cry, the fear, too. But after, he was just too empty. His chest had felt hollow, and it still felt hollow even as Dean whispered quiet coos into his hair while they lay tangled together in the dark.

It was suffocating, in a way, being next to him. They were wrapped around each other, holding tightly. Cas wanted to make sure Dean was still there, still real. He supposed Dean was doing it in hopes of comfort. And it was comforting, but it was also terrifying. Cas was conflicted. He felt like he couldn't breathe, or move, or do anything. He also felt like if he ever left the safety of Dean's arms, he would probably be assailed from all directions with pain and terrible thoughts, things, and people.

That was it. He felt safe. He felt constricted, but it was _safe_. He never wanted to leave that safety. He felt like if he ever had to, he would implode from insecurity alone.

Why did it all have to be so fucking complicated?

* * *

The next morning found Cas still in bed, Sam at school, John at work, and Mary and Dean in the living room. Mary had gotten some more details from Dean about the skinwalkers, including where they lived, and she was currently on the phone with her cousin Christian. He was apparently in New York working on a case, but he said that he could get over to them in a week and help out. Mary told Dean that she trusted him more than some other hunters she knew, just because they were family and had known each other as teenagers before Mary had met John.

The doorbell suddenly rang, and since Mary was still on the phone, Dean reluctantly got up and answered it. He was surprised to find Anna standing there, a mix of worry and determination on her fair face.

"Where is he?" she asked, brushing past him.

Dean shut the door and turned to her saying, "Whoa, hold up. Why are you here now?"

"He's my brother," Anna retorted, spinning to glare at him.

"Did Sam tell you what happened?"

"Yes. And I swear I will kill the bastard that did it."

"Don't worry, we've got that covered," Dean muttered under his breath.

Anna looked confused for a moment. "What?"

Dean shook his head. "Nothing. Just, wait here, okay? I'll go get him. It'll be good if he gets up and walks around a little."

She nodded curtly just as Mary murmured a goodbye in the background and came over to where they were standing. Dean made his way upstairs and found Cas sitting up blearily in bed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He looked exhausted still, with rings under his eyes and his hair hanging limp over his forehead.

"Anna's here to see you," Dean said quietly, standing in the doorway.

Cas nodded and got out of bed silently. He looked at his feet as they descended the stairs. Dean noticed that he took extra care to give Dean a wide berth when moving around him. When they reached the living room, Anna took one look at her brother and then ran forward to envelop him in a hug. Cas stood still for a long moment before he hesitantly raised his arms and melted into her.

Anna pulled away and held his face between her hands, looking over him. "I'm so glad you're okay," she muttered, kissing his forehead before running her hands over his arms to his hands. "Are you okay?"

The bruises on his wrists were painfully visible and her eyes glanced over them before returning to his face. Dean leaned against the back of the couch with his arms crossed and Mary made her way quietly to the kitchen, presumably to make something for Cas to eat. Dean's eyes looked him over like Anna's had, and he saw how stiff he was standing, and how jumpy he was.

"I'm okay," Cas whispered, though he wasn't looking at his sister. Anna folded him into another hug and kissed the top of his head.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I'm so sorry," she said into his hair.

"It's fine," he mumbled into her shoulder. He stood stock still in her grip, hands at his sides.

Dean turned away.

He went to the kitchen, where Mary was putting together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Cas. Sighing quietly, he leaned on the counter on his elbows, chin resting in his hands. His mother put a hand on his shoulder with a sympathetic smile and they both turned to glance at Cas when he entered the kitchen with Anna glued to his side. Frankly, Dean was surprised that Cas hadn't yet told her to shove off.

They all sat at the table in tense silence as Cas managed to choke down the sandwich. Dean tried not to look at Cas while Anna had her eyes constantly glued to her brother. Mary just sat amiably with her book in her hand. When Cas had finished, she took his dishes to the sink and set to cleaning them while the others eyed each other.

"So Cas," Anna began after a moment. "Are you ready to go home?"

Cas glanced at her. "Home?"

"Whoa, whoa," Dean interjected. "Go?"

Anna glared at him from across the table. "Yes, go home. With me. Where I can keep an eye on him."

"He doesn't want to be babied." Dean was already frustrated with the way Anna had been acting, but this? This was crossing the line. She was in _his_ home and suggesting taking away _his _boyfriend.

"I think Cas should decide what he wants to do," Mary told them all, returning to the table and earning a grateful blink from Cas that Dean didn't miss. He turned his attention from Anna, but she was insistent.

"I'm his family, so I should be the one taking care of him."

"We're as much a family to him as you are!" Dean protested.

"_You_? What gives you the right?"

"Anna," Cas muttered in warning, giving her a glare that she just ignored.

"If you love him so much how could you—?"

"Anna!"

"Let this happen to him?" Dean supplied bitterly. Anna finally fell silent, her eyes fiery as they stared at him. "Yeah, I know this is all my fault. Of course I know that." Dean took a forced breath to attempt to calm himself. "But what Cas needs now is someone to stay by him and comfort him if he needs it, but to let him be when he wants to be alone. Someone who won't baby him and ask him if he needs anything every five minutes. As much as I wish there was someone else to do that, because I know Cas would rather not have it be me, I'm the only one who can." They were all staring at him in mildly shocked silence. Dean let his glare linger over Anna for another moment before he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed and turned his eyes to the table.

There were a few moments of quiet before Cas spoke. "I'm sorry, Anna, but Dean is right. I just don't want to impose…"

"Castiel, honey, you already spend half of your time here. We're happy to have you here, in any state," Mary told him quietly. Dean glanced at her to see a soft, motherly smile on her mouth.

"I don't know what I'll tell my dad, though."

After a minute, Anna sighed dramatically. "I'll cover for you. I'll tell him you're staying with me."

Dean looked at her in surprise just as Cas said, "Thank you, Anna. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well, since I can't do much else." Her bitter glare gave way to a smile when her brother took her hand in his.

"You could, actually, do something else," Cas muttered quietly.

"What's that?"

"Well, I don't know how long I'll be staying here, but some clothes and stuff would be nice."

"Sure. I can go grab some for you and come back in a while."

"Thanks, Anna."

"Well, that's settled," Dean said suddenly. "Onto business. Cas, you good?"

"Oh, um, fine, I guess."

"Any pain? Anything I should know about, or can help with?" Mary asked, looking grateful for the change of topic.

Cas shook his head. "I'm feeling a lot better now, thank you."

"You sure? Alright." Dean relaxed a little, glad for that small blessing. He sent a look to his mother and she caught it with one of her own. They would need to talk to Cas about Christian coming to help, but it was not the time. Not with Anna there.

Dean's phone suddenly rang in the other room and he glimpsed Cas starting in surprise. Dean stood with an apologetic look and went to answer it, surprised to see that it was already eleven o'clock and that it was Sam calling him.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, can you come pick me up?"

"School out already?"

"Yep." It was the last week of school and they had the last few days as half days for semester finals.

"Can you see if Brady and Jess can come over? We've got some stuff to chat about."

"Sure. They probably can."

"Awesome. I'll be there in ten."

Dean hung up and made his way back to the kitchen. "I've got to go get Sam and Co. from school."

Mary stood. "I'll go. You stay," she said, already heading towards the door. She caught the keys as Dean took them from his pocket and tossed them to her.

"I'll take that as my cue to leave, too. I've got to pick up Gabe in twenty minutes. We'll stop by dad's and I'll grab some stuff for you," Anna said to Cas as she also stood. Cas nodded gratefully and she planted another kiss on the top of his head before heading towards Mary where they both went out the front door. The house grew quiet and Dean took his place across from Cas, again.

"Dean, about what you said…" Cas began hesitantly after a good few minutes of silence.

Dean waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Cas. I know. I also know that this doesn't mean we're back together or anything. I'm here solely for you, whatever you need me to be, and I know what that is, too."

Cas nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." He had meant it to be gentler, as if saying that Cas would do the same if their situations were switched. Instead it came out caustic and Dean winced internally, looking away.

"Um, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"How did… how did Crowley get your phone, anyway?"

So it had been Crowley… Dean grimaced visibly. He tried to shove down the anger that suddenly filled his mouth and lungs. "Luke stole it," he said quietly.

"Oh… Sorry, I was just wondering." Cas' voice was soft and hesitant. Dean glanced at him to see his head hung as he stared at his lap.

"It's alright." _Damn it._ Dean really wanted to push him, to pry for some answers. He wanted to know what Crowley had said, what he'd done. But he knew that he couldn't talk about it. Cas would talk when he was ready, and even though it might take a long time, Dean would wait.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So I figure I'm just going to post these as I finish them. There's going to be three more chapters (unless I start rambling on like I did this chapter, which was not meant to be so long! but I guess when I write at one a.m. my brain just adds in little bits). So here's some quick fluff and angst to hold you over until the end! P.S. I also have decided to give a little surprise at the end for those of you who really liked storytelling Sam!

* * *

Mary returned shortly with the three other kids in tow. They all sat together at the table, and Sam gave Dean a withering look at the lackluster way that Cas greeted them. Mary filled everyone in on the situation with Christian, saying that he should be there by the weekend. Sam, in turn, told them about the situation at school, since Cas had already said that he needed to go back the next day to take his last two finals of the semester.

"We don't know who started it, but it's pretty obvious that it must have been one of them, but there's some rumors going around now about Cas…" Sam started hesitantly.

Cas was looking at his lap but Dean just narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What kind of rumors?"

Sam glanced at Jess, who grimaced. "Well, they're saying that Cas… that he's taking money for sex."

"What?" Dean exclaimed loudly.

His brother flinched. "Most of the school was talking about it. I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to go back tomorrow," he said, looking at Cas, who glanced at him fleetingly.

"I need to, though."

Dean eyed him, trying to gauge his reaction, but Cas' face was mostly hidden. "I could talk to your teachers and try and get them to let you take them after school or something," he offered.

Cas shook his head. "No. They can say what they want. I'm not going to hide here forever. It's just a few hours so I'm sure I can survive it."

The other kids all shared a look, but they nodded to Cas. Dean admired his strength, definitely, but he was worried. He made a promise to himself to keep a sharp eye on him in the morning.

They spent the rest of the day all hanging out together and Mary ordered a few pizzas when John got home. It was getting late when Dean took Jess and Brady home. He dropped Brady off first, and then Jess, but before she got out of the Impala, she leaned over and dropped a kiss on his cheek.

"Don't worry too much. Cas is a tough cookie," she said to him with a half-smile that betrayed how worried she herself was. Dean gave her a thankful twist of his mouth and he waited until she was inside her house before he pulled away and headed home.

When he arrived back, Mary and John were sitting downstairs on the couch, watching a movie and leaning into each other's shoulders. Dean quietly went up the stairs, assuming that Cas had already gone to bed. The light in his room wasn't on, but the door was open. He was about to go in when he noticed that Sam's door was cracked open and soft light was spilling out with hushed voices.

Knowing he probably shouldn't eavesdrop, Dean snuck closer, sticking his back to the wall so that he was hidden in the shadows. The voices were faint, but he could hear most of what they were saying.

"… I just don't think he's the kind of person to realize something like that unless you tell him," his brother was saying.

There was a sigh before Cas replied, "I guess I just hoped I wouldn't have to say it."

"He's a depressed, horny, thick-headed teenager. As much as you want, you can't expect too much from him."

Dean bit back a nasty scoff that was threatening to leave his throat.

"You're right. I just wish you weren't."

"We all do. Look, I know you hate seeing him like this. I know that you want to make it all better, but this is about you right now. You've got to get better and let us take care of you for now. And you've got to figure out what it is that you have to do to take care of yourself. If that means leaving him, then that's what it takes…" Sam paused for a long moment. "He loves you more than anything, it's so obvious. And I don't want to see him heartbroken and drowning in misery more than he already is. And as much as I want you to be better, I also don't want you to leave my brother. You need to talk to him though. Get him to really understand what needs to change. I'll try talking to him, too, and maybe…"

Dean didn't catch the rest of what he was saying because he had tiptoed down the hallway and to the stairs. Taking a deep breath, he stomped a little louder than he needed to back up the last couple of steps and went into his room without another glance at his brother's door farther along the corridor. He didn't bother with the light, but he shucked off his jacket and tossed it over the chair before falling into his bed. He curled up on one side, facing the door and waiting for when Cas' silhouette would show up.

It didn't take long, and as soon as he saw it, Dean shut his eyes. His ears strained for the sound of Cas' footsteps, but the sound never came, and after a long few minutes, he opened his eyes again and saw Cas still standing in the doorway, faint light haloing him from the hall. Dean sat up and watched him for a moment.

"You just gonna stand there all night?" he asked mildly.

Cas sighed but didn't move.

"Whatever, man," Dean muttered, flopping back down onto his side. He let out a deep breath and tried to get comfortable, but he could feel Cas' gaze on him. After what felt like a very long time, Dean was finally starting to drift off, his mind stuck in a stage of half-consciousness.

There was a sudden pressure on the other side of the mattress as Cas climbed into the bed, burrowing under the blankets. Dean was roused a bit, just enough to feel Cas scoot closer to him and put his arm around Dean's waist so that his back was right up against Cas' chest. Their hands found themselves wound together as Dean fell into the blackness of a dreamless sleep.

. . . . .

When Dean woke the next morning to the buzzing of his alarm, he found himself literally trapped underneath Cas, who was sprawled across him like Dean himself was the bed. Cas had his body draped over Dean's chest, head resting on his shoulder and one leg sitting between Dean's, with his arms curled protectively around Dean's shoulders and head.

It was really weird… and oddly comfortable.

Dean grappled to reach the alarm clock without jostling his arm too much and managed to hit the snooze button. He sighed in relief and relaxed, lifting one hand to rest on Cas' lower back. Cas made a sleepy noise and buried his face into the side of Dean's neck. The elder Winchester brother smiled and closed his eyes, determined to enjoy the next blissful five minutes before the alarm would go off again and they would have to get ready for school.

As soon as Cas woke up, he knew the moment would be over. Cas would go back to being quiet and reserved and would flinch at his touch. Dean was bitter about that, understandably. Even before it had happened, he hadn't really been able to touch Cas, considering Cas had technically broken up with him. But he still hadn't been treated like this. And Cas had still been smiling back then. Just a few days ago.

Dean turned his head to rest his lips and nose in the curls on Cas' head. He sighed out silently and breathed in the familiar smell of soap, rain, teenaged boy, and just _Cas_. It was a smell that he'd grown used to months ago, back at camp, when he could spend all of his time with his Cas and put his whole heart into his smile. Those days seemed so far away. Sometimes, Dean felt as if they'd never really happened at all. They were too happy of memories for Dean to believe they could be true sometimes.

Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if they'd never been in the same cabin. Alone. Together. If they'd never met. If they'd never had to deal with Michael and the others. But the "what if's" could drive a man mad if he thought about them too much. So it was only sometimes, when he had a really bad day. Those kinds of days happened more often that he would like, but—

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Dean sighed heavily into Cas' hair and reached over to turn the damned alarm off. Cas stirred slightly and tightened his arms, muttering something in his sleep. Dean couldn't help the gentle smile that stole over his lips. He moved his hand up and down Cas' back trying to rouse him.

"Cas. Cas, we gotta get up," Dean said softly, kissing his head.

"Mmph. Five more minutes…" Cas mumbled, his whisper thick with sleep.

Dean laughed quietly, the reverberations shuddering in his chest and he knew that Cas could feel it. "It's been five minutes. Come on, babe, we've got school. One more day and then it's all over for three whole weeks. You can sleep as much as you want then."

He got an unintelligible grumble in reply. Cas shifted his body so he was laying completely on top of Dean and burrowed his face into the fabric of Dean's shirt.

"Caaaaaaaas…" Dean drawled out in protest, his lungs starting to feel the pressure of Cas' weight on him. "Come on, it's time to get up!" Cas didn't move or make another sound but Dean knew he wasn't quite asleep again. He continued his previous ministrations of rubbing Cas' back and put his other hand to good use trying to get Cas to at least lift his head by running it through his hair. Cas sighed, but Dean couldn't tell if it was in annoyance or contentedness. He hoped it was the latter. "Cas, really, we gotta get up," he said again.

Cas mumbled something but didn't move. "Dean?" he asked quietly a moment later.

"Yeah?"

The younger boy shifted his hands to Dean's shoulders so that he was giving Dean an embrace of sorts. "Can't we just stay like this?"

Dean let out a breath slowly. "I wish. But you said yesterday that you had to go to school today."

Cas groaned and grumbled, "Yeah I guess I did." He lifted himself on his elbows and groggily blinked open his eyes to look at Dean. He looked so… _cute_. Dean thought he looked like a sleepy kitten that had been begrudgingly woken up by some annoying pest. He frowned slightly. "What?" Cas asked, blearily watching him.

Dean hid the thought and smiled again. "I was just thinking that you look like a tired kitten."

Cas glared at him. "I'm not a kitten."

"Of course you aren't." Dean grinned and pretended to purr like a cat. He laughed when Cas suddenly dropped his head in exasperation and rested his forehead on Dean's collarbone. No, Cas was not a morning person. Never has been, never will be.

Cas suddenly jerked upwards and away from Dean, scrambling to climb off of him and out of the bed. Dean stared at him in mild shock, and he seemed to realize what he'd just done because he nervously smoothed down his shirt and mumbled an apology, looking anywhere but at Dean.

Dean furrowed his brow. "You okay?" he asked.

Nodding stiffly, Cas replied, "Yes. I think I'll go shower now."

"Alright."

Dean watched him as he rummaged through his duffel that Anna had brought over the night before. He left the room quickly and Dean flopped down with a heavy sigh. He stared moodily at the ceiling and lay there until he heard the water turn off from down the hall, signaling that it was his turn to shower.

* * *

As soon as they left the house, Cas started feeling truly nervous. Dean glanced back at him in the rearview mirror, but Cas refused to meet his gaze. Waking up that morning had been way too awkward for him. He didn't know what had possessed him to cuddle up to Dean before he went to sleep, but it had felt nice at the time. Just like at first, when he woke up, he felt warm and comfortable. That was before he'd realized he was _on top of Dean_. He'd fled without a second thought, but as soon as he was away from Dean, he started feeling bad. He didn't quite feel bad enough to apologize, though, so he hadn't said a word to Dean all morning.

When they got to school, it seemed pretty normal. The parking lot was mostly devoid of people, and they made it past the front gates with no worries. It was only once they were surrounded by other kids that Cas started to feel the glares and hear the whispers. He unconsciously stuck closer to Dean, who was staring around them with a hard expression, daring anyone to come over and say something straight to them. No one did.

Cas just tried to keep himself from looking around nervously, and instead focused on his footsteps. He felt a hand on the small of his back and glanced up to see that it was Dean's. It was a soft touch, a guiding touch, and he let Dean lead him through the mass of bodies towards his first class of the day.

Sam nudged his shoulder and mumbled, "Good luck," into his ear before disappearing down the hall towards his own class.

Cas lifted his head a little, almost surprised that he wasn't being caught in one of those cliché high school movie scenes where everyone goes silent to stare at the humiliated kid. In fact, most people weren't paying much attention to him, but those who were sent him disgusted glares or malicious smiles. If Dean hadn't been guiding him along, Cas wasn't sure he would have been able to keep his feet moving in the right direction.

Just as he was thinking that, he heard a voice he really did not want to hear say his name. He looked ahead and found Raphael walking towards them with an unreadable expression. "Hey Castiel," he said mildly, stopping them in the middle of the hallway. Cas glanced briefly at his face and then looked away. "I haven't seen you around much. Too busy for school, hmm?" The hidden meaning behind his words was all too clear.

"It's none of your business," Dean hissed and Cas didn't have to look at him to know that his face was a mask of fury.

"Dean," Cas warned softly.

"I'm just showing my concern here for a classmate," Raphael said, his hands raised in a placating manner.

"You can show your concern somewhere else." Dean's hand still hadn't moved from Cas' back and Cas could feel the tension radiating off of him.

"And what are you? His guard dog?" Raphael smirked. Cas glared at him and was about to say something but Dean beat him to it.

"No, I'm his boyfriend."

Cas looked at him in shock. He'd said it loud enough that a few people who were clustered nearby and watching them heard it. His eyes found a dark surprise on Raphael's face, and somewhere inside he felt a little bit of pride, but mostly he just felt nervous. "Dean!" he said sharply, stepping back slightly away from him.

Dean's gaze met his. "What? It's been long enough. And even if I can't protect you from everything," he said bitterly, "at least I can stop an idiot ex and few shitty rumors."

"Well, this is interesting," Raphael murmured, almost to himself.

Cas turned and told him, "Fuck off." Rapahel looked like he was about to protest, but he glanced at Dean and then abruptly stalked past them down the hall. Cas looked back at Dean, but his arm was suddenly in Dean's grasp and he was being pulled down a side hallway. "Dean, you're taking the long way to my classroom," he said after a moment.

"I know," Dean replied, not even looking at him. He loosened his grip on Cas' arm, though. Cas glanced over his shoulder and his heart almost stopped when he saw Crowley step into sight. Crowley's back was turned, but he could hear that obnoxious laughter falling from his mouth even as Dean pulled him around another corner and they resumed their path to his class.

Dean stopped just by the door and Cas found himself standing stock still with sudden fear. He looked at Dean's worried face. "Dean, I can't… I'm not ready to be here yet," he whispered with wide eyes.

Putting a hand on the side of his neck, Dean rubbed his thumb across Cas' cheek. "You'll be fine. Don't worry about anyone. It's three classes, and I'll be right with you going to each one." Cas met his bright eyes, filled with concern and love and a deep, deep anger that was hidden just below the surface.

Cas felt the words tumbling from his mouth before he registered them in his mind. "I love you."

The bell suddenly rang.

Dean smiled encouragingly at him. "Love you, too. Now go and I'll be right here when you come back out, okay?" Cas nodded and went into the classroom, glancing back to see Dean watching him.

He made it through class just fine, and like he'd promised, Dean was waiting outside when he left for his next class. Wordlessly, he took Dean's hand and they moved through the crowd together. He didn't see Crowley or Raphael for the rest of the day, but he was still glad when the final bell rang and Dean walked with him to the Impala where they waited for Sam who was standing by the gates talking to Brady.

Cas wasn't really paying attention, though. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts. His hand was no longer in Dean's, but he could feel Dean's shoulder lightly brushing his as they leaned on the trunk, side by side. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not. It was comforting, but slightly irritating. He wondered how long it would take him to decide which it was. He didn't have a chance to find out, though, because Sam suddenly started walking towards them and Dean straightened to meet him.

"I'm gonna head over to Brady's for a few hours so we can study history for tomorrow," Sam was saying as he neared.

"Cool, call me if you need a ride later," Dean replied, clapping his brother's shoulder as he walked back to Brady. Cas headed around the car to get into the passenger side and Dean quickly followed suit, the rumble of the Impala's engine filling their ears moments later. Cas sat numbly, his mind flipping over and over and running through a million emotions at a hundred miles an hour.

They made it back to Dean's house and through the door before Cas started crying. He rubbed at his cheeks with the palms of his hands and Dean grabbed his shoulder to turn him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Dean asked him worriedly.

Cas just shook his head. His mouth couldn't form words right then, even if his brain had been able to form them. Dean looked at him for a few moments before he put his arms around him. Cas clutched at him, burying his face into Dean's shoulder and trying to will himself to stop crying. He wasn't really sure why he was in the first place. Maybe it was the fact that he'd just made it through such a stressful day and everything was finally okay. Well, not okay, but better. For the moment.

Whatever it was, he was grateful for Dean. Grateful that Dean was still beside him and knew what he wanted, and needed, most of the time. Sure, sometimes Dean had only taken what he'd wanted from Cas and that had hurt him deep inside, but he knew that Dean had never meant to hurt him. It was never his intention. His only intention was to try and make Cas feel loved and protected.

Slowly, the trickle of tears falling onto Dean's jacket slowed to a stop, but Cas still hung onto him, fists tight in the fabric covering his back. He breathed in the familiar smell of leather and soap. He vaguely realized that Dean was whispering sweet nothings into his ear in an effort to calm him down.

After what felt like a long time, Cas finally pulled away and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Dean just smiled and put a hand on his waist lightly. "Feel better?" Cas nodded. "Good. Come on, I'll make us some lunch." He headed towards the kitchen and Cas followed behind him, the salty burn in his eyes fading. Cas leaned against the wall in the entrance to the kitchen and watched Dean rummaging around in the fridge. He apparently didn't find anything satisfying because he sighed and shut the door, moving to the cupboards.

"Dean," Cas said suddenly.

He answered over his shoulder, "Yeah?"

Cas let out a breath. "I thought about you. To keep me sane." He saw Dean's shoulders tense as he froze. "I knew something was wrong. I shouldn't have gone there, but I ignored my bad feeling." Dean's head dropped with a soft sigh. "I… prayed that you would realize something was wrong."

"I was too late," Dean muttered, quietly enough that Cas almost didn't hear him.

"You still came."

He turned wearily and their eyes met. "I was still too late."

Cas looked at the floor. "After a while, it was just pain. The only thing I had was your name." Fidgeting his hands, he touched one of his bruised wrists with hesitant fingers. He breathed out a quick laugh. "I think about the lake at camp a lot. How we all just sat out there in the sun and we didn't have any worries or fears." He glanced up to find Dean standing right in front of him.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Cas," Dean said gently. He didn't touch Cas. He didn't move any closer. He just watched with those leaf green eyes.

"We just smiled."

Dean was frowning.

Cas put his arms around Dean's body, stepping forward into him and brushing a kiss against his cheek before leaning his face into his neck. Dean tensed at first in surprise, but he fit his arms back around Cas and squeezed him gently, reassuringly.


	10. Chapter 10

"Dean. How nice to see you without your pet for once," Michael said with a sly smile as he sidled up to where Dean was leaning against his locker.

"Michael. I was wondering when you'd show your ugly face," Dean replied, his mouth twisted into a sickeningly sweet smile.

Michael shrugged. "Well, I couldn't let my favorite toy go without my attention for _too_ long."

Dean fought the urge to punch him. As much as he hated the guy, they were on school grounds and Dean had just two more hours before he was free for three weeks. He really did not want to screw that up at the last second. "What do you want?" he asked with fake politeness.

"I'm just here to ask how little Cassie is doing." He leaned back into the locker beside Dean and watched him keenly.

Dean forced himself not to jerk away. "He's fine, thanks for asking," he muttered, venom slowly starting to leak into his voice.

"You know, Dean, I'm a little surprised you haven't left him yet. After all, he's _ruined_ now, isn't he?"

Dean sharply turned and looked at the skinwalker, who was still smiling. "That was your plan?" He barked out a laugh. "If you think for one second that I'm going to leave him because of a shitty move you pulled, well, you've got another thing coming." The look on Michael's face didn't waver, but Dean pushed away from the lockers disgustedly and stalked his way to class as the bell rang in his ears.

He was damn glad that Christian would be coming soon and then he'd never have to see Michael's stupid gang again.

And he sure as hell didn't feel a pang in his body when he thought about that. Then again, Dean Winchester has always been known to lie to himself more than anybody else.

* * *

Christian came on Saturday. Mary answered the door and led him into the main room where everyone except John was gathered. John still didn't know that Christian was coming, and he would be staying in a motel anyway, so the point was pretty moot in everyone's eyes. Behind Christian, though, was a familiar face that had Dean jumping to his feet in surprise.

"Gwen?" he asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

She grinned at him. "Funny story actually…"

"She and Christian are both my cousins," Mary told him.

"No way!" Sam exclaimed, rising to his feet, too.

"Last name Campbell? Come on kids, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out earlier. Why do you think I never questioned you about that black dog and the skinwalkers?" Gwen was laughing, her eyes lighting up at the boys' confused glances.

"Yeah, okay, I guess. But why are you here now? Mom didn't say anything about you coming."

Gwen looked at her cousins. "Christian called me up on his way since he was going by where I live up north and as soon as he mentioned you lot, I just had to come with. Besides, I haven't had a good hunt in a few years. Plus this job comes with revenge."

Dean had to grin a bit at that. "Well it's good to see you."

"Likewise."

Mary took Sam with her into the kitchen to put together some sandwiches for everyone as Gwen and Christian got comfortable in the main room for some catching up. Dean found out that Gwen, like Mary, was raised in the hunting life, but had left the open road to settle down years ago. She had run the summer camp during the season, and for the rest of the year she owned a little hardware shop in a small town in northern Kansas. She hadn't completely given up the life of a hunter, though, and she still went out when Christian or another hunter needed an extra pair of hands for a job.

After Mary came back with lunch, it was down to business and the little group told what they could about the skinwalkers in an attempt to help them. They already knew the address of their house, and were planning on staking it out that afternoon and hitting it that night. It was going to be a quick job and before long the two Campbell's were heading back out the door to ready themselves.

Gwen took Dean aside as Christian was saying his goodbyes and led him out to the car in the driveway. "You know how to shoot a gun?" she asked, watching him with stern, but concerned eyes.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, Bobby and Dad used to take me and Sammy hunting in the woods when we were younger."

"Good. Don't tell your mother about this, but here." She opened the trunk of the car and pulled out a pistol. She took the clip out and showed it to him. "Silver bullets. One in the head should put a skinwalker down for good, but anywhere else they still hurt like hell. I want you to take this, just in case. I'm not expecting there to be any trouble, but I want you to be protected." She shoved the clip back in and pressed it into Dean's palm

"Gwen, I—"

"It'll give me a little peace of mind. Just don't shoot yourself with it on accident." Gwen gave a wry smile, but Dean still felt nervous. He nodded stiffly and stuck the pistol in the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Don't underestimate them," Dean said quietly. Gwen squeezed his shoulder and closed the trunk just as Christian came out. Dean watched them drive off down the street and tried to make the lump in his throat go away.

. . . . .

That night found Dean sitting on a recliner in the main room watching a movie with Cas on his lap and a blanket over them both. His arms were around Cas, whose head was resting back on his chest. Periodically, Dean would lean his head forward and press a kiss into Cas' hair to make him smile. Whenever Sam saw him do that, he would laugh under his breath, but Jess would just look over fondly and smack Sam's shoulder since they were sitting together on the couch with Brady. Mary and John were in the kitchen doing something or other with bills or something involving paperwork that Dean didn't really care about.

"I wonder what's happening right now," Brady mused suddenly during a quiet part of the movie.

"I could care less. As long as it all ends tonight," Dean said.

Cas turned in his arms to glance at his face. "It will be over, don't worry. And I'm sure that Gwen and Christian will be fine."

Brady nodded to himself. "Yeah, let's just enjoy the movie!"

"This movie sucks," Jess deadpanned. They all glanced at her until her mouth broke out into a smile and they all laughed. It was a shitty movie though, something lame from the eighties, but they were all too wound up to really care. Laughing helped ease the tension a little bit, though, and Dean felt Cas relax against him again as they all quieted.

The silence was only permeated by the various noises from the movie and the muffled talking of Dean's parents. At least until the doorbell suddenly rang and everybody in the room visibly tensed. Sam was the first up and he cautiously made his way to the door. He opened it and Dean was disconcerted that he didn't make a sound. He saw his brother stoop over to pick something up before shutting the door.

"What is it?" Dean called over. Mary had left the kitchen table and was walking towards her youngest son with the same question written on her face.

Sam was quiet for a long moment. "Um, Dean?"

He heard Mary let out a choked noise and he suddenly untangled himself from Cas to see what the deal was. In Sam's hands was a box, the lid was open and he was staring in with a mask of shock. Mary didn't say a word, and as Dean drew closer, he could see what was resting inside on a bed of tissue paper.

It was Christian's head.

"Guys? What is it?" Jess called over, standing up.

Dean stuck a hand out behind him and said, "Don't look."

"What? Why?" Brady asked, standing beside her.

Turning back to look at them, Dean said softly, "Christian's dead." They were all silent and Jess covered her mouth with one hand as Cas moved and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Who was at the door?" John's voice came from the kitchen and they all looked to Mary.

"Just some neighborhood kids," Mary called back after a moment. She glanced at Sam, who was still holding the box. "Hide that in the backyard. I'll take care of it tomorrow," she told them in a hushed voice.

"What are we going to do now?" Dean asked her.

His mother shook her head. "I have no idea. I can call some other hunters. Get some other help."

"Because that's worked out well so far."

"Dean!" Cas hissed at him.

"Dean, I can't go after them on my own. I don't have the weapons and it's been a long time since I've held a gun." Mary seemed to be getting over her initial shock, but she was still a bit flustered.

Sighing, Dean muttered, "Yeah, sorry."

"I'll see what I can do," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. She turned and went back to the kitchen. Part of Dean wanted to yell after her, get her to do something right then, but he knew that John couldn't know anything about this, and that there wasn't much they could really do until later, or morning.

Dean glanced at the box again, which Sam had thankfully shut. "Come on," he said, walking towards the back door and expecting his brother to follow behind him. Sam did, and they both went into the backyard, quickly finding a place to stash the box on the side yard where critters wouldn't be able to get to it. He vaguely wondered what Mary planned to do with it.

He went inside without another glance at Sam and headed straight to his room. There, still in the inside pocket of his jacket was the gun Gwen had given him. He slipped the jacket on and glanced around his room to find his keys before going back down the stairs. The kids were all sitting or leaning on the couch, depressed looks on their faces. Cas looked up when Dean passed them by to grab his shoes from where they sat next to the front door.

"Where are you going?" he asked, straightening and gathering the attention of the others.

"To kill them," Dean replied simply. He opened the door just as Cas grabbed his arm.

"No you're not. They'll kill you."

Dean smiled bitterly. "No they won't. Not at first." He almost felt a little satisfied when Cas glanced away momentarily.

"Dean, it's too dangerous." Sam took a few steps towards him.

He took the gun from his pocket and looked it over for a moment before his eyes met his brother's. "I'm prepared."

"You still remember how to shoot?"

"It's not hard to miss at point blank."

"Dean, please," Cas begged, his grip tightening on Dean's arm.

"Don't tell Mom, at least until I'm already gone," Dean told his brother, meeting his eyes and seeing the resigned understanding in them. He looked back at Cas and saw only bright fear. He put the gun back into his pocket. "In case I don't ever get to do this again…" He pulled Cas tight against him and crushed their lips together.

It had been two weeks since he'd tasted Cas, and damned if he was going to die without having that mouth against his just once more. It was rough and intense and he could feel Cas clutching at him desperately, trying to make him stay. But he had to go. He wanted more than anything to hold him just a little longer and kiss him just a little more, but reluctantly Dean pulled away.

"And don't come after me," he added to his brother.

That said, Dean shut the door behind him and sucked in a deep breath of cold night air. He walked with purpose to his beloved Impala, running his fingertips across her side before he slipped in and started up the purr of her engine. Oh, she was a beautiful car, no doubt about that. And Dean was sure going to miss her. But she would go into good hands. She would be Sam's, and he knew that no matter what, Sam would take care of her for him.

He refused to think about who would take care of Cas when he was gone.

Instead, he turned up the radio, happy to hear some Alice Cooper playing, and took off down the road, determined to make his last ride in his baby last as long as it could. If it was his last night on earth, he was gonna go out with a bang.

The gun felt just a little heavier in his pocket.


	11. Chapter 11

He didn't see Christian's car anywhere near the skinwalkers' house, but he didn't believe for a second that Gwen had somehow managed to get away in it. It was more likely that they'd already stashed it. Who knows, maybe they'd used it to make that delivery of Christian's severed head. Dean felt a rush of hatred as he turned off the engine of the Impala. He left the keys in the ignition and took the gun out from his jacket, turning it around in his hands. He checked the clip and then cocked the gun before stepping out of the car and heading towards the door.

"No regrets," he muttered to himself under his breath. He held the gun loosely and raised his free hand to ring the doorbell once he reached the porch. It took a few moments, but the door opened wide, revealing bright yellow lights and a figure.

Crowley was grinning. "We wondered how long it would take before you showed up."

Dean raised the gun and pressed the tip of it against the skinwalker's cheek. "We can do this the hard way, or the easy way," he said coldly.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. Always with your choices." Crowley sighed. "Fine, we'll do it your way for now." He moved back a step and Dean pushed past him, keeping the gun trained at his skull even as he closed the door.

Dean furtively glanced around, surprised to find the front room almost devoid of furniture or really anything at all. "Where's Michael?" he asked, turning back to Crowley.

Just as he was about to answer, Dean heard a door open behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Luke emerging into the side hallway. He didn't see Dean at first; he was busy looking behind him, the last words of a sentence falling from his mouth. Without a second thought, Dean took two steps forward, aimed, and shot.

The bullet grazed the top of his shoulder and he spun around to face Dean, his face a mask of shock before it transformed into rage. Dean shot again, and this time he didn't miss. Luke fell to the ground with a trickle of blood falling from a hole just above his left eye.

Before Crowley could even move, Dean turned his body back halfway and pointed the gun at him again, glancing over just once to see surprise on his face. Dean's attention focused back on the door that Luke had come from. He wasn't surprised when Michael came through the doorway just a moment later, his face turned down to look at his fallen brother. Gingerly, he stepped over Luke's body and raised his head to look at Dean. There was a smile on his lips.

"Dean. How nice of you to stop by."

"Oh shut up. I just killed your brother, you can skip the goddamned pleasantries." Dean watched him angrily, trying to keep from shooting him then and there. No, he wanted to take his time. At least a little bit of time.

"He didn't matter to me even when he was alive. Now he matters even less." Michael spread his hands in a carefree gesture.

"Michael, are you just going to—"

Crowley's sentence was cut off into a cry of pain as Dean looked at him, lowered his gun, and shot him in the leg. He crumpled against the wall, trying to cover the wound with his hands when it started gushing blood. "You son of a fucking—AGH!"

Dean shot his other leg and watched with satisfaction as he slid to the ground. "That was for Cas," he spit through clenched teeth.

"My, my, Dean. Your ruthlessness is showing." Michael was watching him interestedly when Dean looked over again. He stepped closer and Dean fought the urge to step back. He couldn't show any weakness. "I have to ask, what brought this on?"

"Do you really have to ask?" Dean glared at him venomously. "Maybe it's 'cause I'm tired of all your games. Maybe it's cause you had your crony—" he waved the gun towards Crowley "—rape my fucking boyfriend. Maybe it's 'cause you just killed my family."

"They were your family? Interesting." Michael looked genuinely surprised at that, but Dean didn't trust him for a second.

"Michael!" Crowley suddenly called out from where he'd been writhing and groaning in pain.

"Shut it, Crowley," the other skinwalker told him without taking his eyes from Dean's. He took another step forward, and Dean slowly raised his gun to point it at him. A warning. "You want to shoot me, too, Dean? Go ahead." He laughed and walked forward until the tip of the gun was pressing against his chest.

Dean hesitated.

"You know, Dean, all I ever wanted was you. Nothing would have happened to your brother, or your friends, or even Castiel if you had just given up to me." Michael was no longer smiling. There was something almost… regretful in his eyes.

"Why should I believe that?" Dean watched him carefully, the moaning man on the ground completely forgotten about. He was caught, like a deer in headlights, in that soft gaze of Michael's. He still hadn't shot him, and he wasn't sure why he was hesitating, but he couldn't seem to make himself pull the trigger just yet.

"Have I ever lied to you?" the side of Michael's mouth curved up slightly and he tilted his head just a little to the side. It was scary how genuine he looked. "It was always about you, Dean. Just you. I didn't care about your boyfriend, or your brother, or anyone else at that godforsaken camp. I would have done anything to get you to like me, even just a little bit. But you were so against me. From the beginning."

Dean's breath shuddered in his lungs. "Michael…" he pleaded, his gun dropping just a little bit.

"I only wanted you. And when I had you in my grasp… You were so beautiful." He put his hands around Dean's forearm. Not pushing him away, but holding him there. Holding the gun right up to his heart.

Dean shut his eyes.

"All of this is because of you, Dean. You pushed me to my limits. I had to get creative. I had to do what I could. I had to _try_."

Dean shook his head.

"It's okay if you hate me. It's okay if you shoot me. You're special, Dean. You're the only one to ever get away from me. The only one to ever get this far. You were the last."

Dean slowly raised his eyes and met Michael's proud eyes. Proud. He was fucking _proud_ of him, and Dean had no idea how to feel about that. His hand was starting to shake, and he knew Michael could feel it because the skinwalker gently moved his arm to the side and stepped right into Dean's personal space.

His hands cupped Dean's jaw and raised his chin so that their lips could meet in a soft kiss. Dean trembled under his tender hands for a long moment before he put his own on Michael's chest and leaned into him, still gripping the gun. He wasn't sure if he didn't want to pull away, or if Michael was holding him there, but either way, he stood still for a long moment, his mouth hanging in the air against the skinwalker's.

The shot echoed around his head and his ears started ringing. Michael's body convulsed slightly and Dean held him under the arms to keep him from falling. Blood trickled down onto Dean's neck and covered his front as Michael made a soft choking noise before he stopped moving altogether. Slowly, Dean fell to his knees and laid his body on the floor.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, not sure what he was apologizing for. He took a few minutes to just look at him, his young face and dark hair and eyes that were suddenly so devoid of life. When he was done, he stood, and he noticed that Crowley was still sitting against the wall, his whimpers of pain having faded to just weak groans.

"You just gonna leave me here to die?" Crowley asked, his voice hoarse. Dean took a step away from him, then turned back and shot him in the temple. His head dropped and the house was silent.

Dean looked at the gun in his head, held it up to inspect the blood that was drying along the barrel and on his hand that had dripped down from Michael's throat when he'd shot him through. The ringing in his ears was finally fading to just a dull throb in the background. He looked down the hall to see Luke's body still lying where it had fallen.

One foot after another, he started moving.

He stepped over Luke and peered through the doorway to see a set of stairs that could only lead to the basement. The light was already on, so he cautiously made his way down. The basement itself was bare, but he could see two bodies lying against the far wall. One was more to the side, slumped over and missing a head. The other was sitting up and as Dean moved closer he could see Gwen's shoulders moving with each breath. Dean kneeled beside her and touched her arm. There was blood on her face and what looked like a deep gash on one thigh. He shook her shoulder and slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked at him.

"Dean?" she said weakly.

"Yeah." He glanced down to see her hands bound by rope, and looked around for something sharp to use.

"My… belt…" Gwen muttered, making Dean look back at her face. He examined her belt, lifting her shirt a little to find a small knife in a holster at her side. He pulled it out and sawed off the restraints before shoving his gun into the waist band of his jeans so he could help her up.

Dean took most of her weight onto his shoulder as he half-carried her up the steps. She looked at the bodies littering the floor, but didn't say anything. Dean refused to look or say a single word, and took her straight out the door and to the Impala, still waiting in the cold night air. He didn't even care that she was probably getting blood all over the upholstery and just drove back home.

. . . . .

Cas didn't know what was going to happen. He was almost expecting a call from the police saying that Dean was dead. Instead though, against all odds, Dean came back dragging Gwen through the door and setting her down in the kitchen so that Mary could patch her up.

As soon as he'd walked through the door, everyone had jumped up from where they had been waiting anxiously for him. John had retired to bed not too long ago, and everyone was grateful because they could let their worry show plainly on their faces as they half-heartedly attempted to finish watching the movie. It wasn't even an hour before Dean was back.

Cas wanted to go to him as soon as he'd come through that door. But there was a barrier between them, and it wasn't just Gwen's body. It was Dean's eyes. It was his face. They were… devoid. So Cas stayed to the side as Dean passed by, heading to the kitchen.

He looked empty.

As soon as Dean had dropped off Gwen, though, he had stood awkwardly to the side, seemingly like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Cas stepped near him, a little afraid to get too close in case Dean. There was blood all down his front, and some splattered across one side of his face and neck. Blood on his sleeves and on his pants. Cas hoped that none of it was his. He simultaneously hoped it was.

When Dean finally noticed him, their eyes met and Cas saw something in his eyes that let him stand right in front of him and brush his hand across Dean's forehead. He touched his face, his cheek, and ran his fingers through Dean's hair.

"It's over now," he found himself saying. "It's over."

Dean just nodded numbly in reply.

Cas took his hand and led him from the kitchen where Mary was ordering Sam to gather a bowl of hot water and some whiskey. He took Dean up the stairs and pulled him into the bathroom where he turned on the shower and pushed Dean's bloody jacket off of his shoulders. Dean let him help take off his clothes before Cas pushed him into the shower. Cas quickly shed his own clothes and joined Dean, who was standing with his head bowed under the spray of the water.

Cas didn't say anything. He knew he didn't need to and he knew that Dean didn't want him to. Instead, he put his hands on Dean's shoulders and turned him. Dean was pliant under his touch, and Cas picked up the soap to rub on Dean's skin and wash away the dried blood. He didn't meet Dean's eyes as his hands worked, but he could feel Dean looking at him. When he was sufficiently clean, Cas reached past Dean to turn off the water, and they both got out to dry off, quickly heading to Dean's room in towels since Cas had forgotten to bring any clean clothes into the bathroom with them.

It wasn't until they were both dressed and warm, sitting side by side on the floor and leaning against the bed that Cas dared to look at Dean's face again. He was staring at the carpet, his hands open on his lap, palms up. Cas looked at his hands, and noticed that he was slowly opening and closing them. He reached out and took Dean's closest hand, intertwining their fingers together. It felt like a long time before Dean spoke.

"I killed them." He didn't say it with pride, or with hate, but with sadness. And maybe a hint of relief. "I barely even had to think about it. Just point and shoot. Just like how Dad taught me." Cas didn't say anything. "I killed Crowley last. I shot him in the legs first." Somewhere, deep, deep down, Cas felt just a tiny bit better at that. "I hesitated with Michael. I apologized when I shot him. Why did I apologize?"

Cas didn't think he was really asking the question for an answer, but he answered anyway after a long moment. "You felt something for him."

"It wasn't love."

"It wasn't love," Cas repeated. It wasn't. He knew it. It was something different. Something that Dean hadn't expected or wanted or even really realized. It was something. But it wasn't truly love.

"I didn't think Gwen was still alive, but I had to check. She was just unconscious."

"She'll be fine, don't worry. She's in good hands."

"I know." Dean was quiet for another couple of minutes. "I want to change for you, Cas, but I don't know where to start."

Cas took a deep breath. "Change happens when you don't expect it sometimes. It can happen for all the right reasons or all the wrong ones, even reasons that should have never been, but it happens all the same. That's how it is. The way of change is plagued by speed bumps and roadblocks, but it's the path you have to take. You move with change. That's what you do."

Dean looked at him and Cas gave him a small, encouraging smile. "Let's go to bed," Cas said softly. Dean just nodded and they both stood only to crawl their way under the covers and into each other's arms.

* * *

A/N: Okay, guys, one more to go after this. I'm hoping to tie up all the loose ends as much as I can, so the next one should to be a pretty long epilogue considering this one and the last were kinda short.

Also, I have had a bunch of people ask me what the whole deal was with Dean and Michael. I thought I'd made it kind of clear... but apparently not. Maybe I just thought so because it's my story so I understand them because I made them that way... But anyways, if it still wasn't clear after this chapter, it's your classic Stockholm Syndrome. I set it up in SiC7A with the two of them in that shack together! Dean never felt anything towards Crowley and Lucifer because they weren't with him and Michael. Michael threatened him, and Dean knew that without a doubt, Michael could and would kill him once he was through with him. But even so, Michael was gentle. He was kind in a way. He let Dean talk to him. He let his hands free. He told him that nothing would happen to the others and he meant that, but of course the others freed themselves anyway and that ended up pissing Michael off. Dean was confused about it for a long time because he didn't understand what the feeling was that he had. Castiel kind of figured it out, but he never said anything because, well, it's Dean, and if you tell Dean Winchester that he has some sort of twisted caring feeling for a sociopath, he'll probably punch you in the face and tell you to shut the fuck up.

With this chapter, in case you're wondering, Michael wanted to die. He knew that he had failed, and besides being a skinwalker, he was a sociopath. He had underestimated Dean and his group, and he knew it was time to go. He wanted Dean to know how he felt, he wanted just one moment more with Dean because he knew he was going to die and he wanted to.

You know, this story (well this series I guess) started out as me wanting to do just a little harmless ghost story told around the campfire, and then it grew into this mass of psychological shit and rape and murder and I have no idea where it went wrong, but I can honestly say that I'm happy that it's all ended up working out overall. Well. For the most part. Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me through this series, and I hope you stay around for the final chapter!


	12. Chapter 12

Dean started awake, his eyes snapping open and his breath catching. His room was still dark and he could feel Cas breathing beside him. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to regulate the air flow in his lungs. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was just past three. He'd come home around one. He sighed heavily and dropped his chin to his chest, willing away the images of his nightmare.

Blood was everywhere. In his mind, on his hands. Not literal, of course. He could still feel the pulse of Michael's body before he fell lifelessly into Dean's arms. He could still feel the kick of the gun as the bullet impaled itself into Michael's skull. He could still see the grim acceptance of death in his eyes as blood drained down onto their chests.

Dean jumped when a hand touched his shoulder. He glanced down and made out eyes glinting slightly in the dimness. Cas sat up beside him, his hand moving to rub gentle circles on his back.

"Nightmare?" he asked softly.

"Yeah." Dean's voice was just a hoarse whisper.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

They sat quietly for a long time before Cas' other hand found its way to Dean's cheek and turned his face towards him. He slowly traced his fingers over the side of his face and Dean leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. He let Cas make the first move, knowing that Cas was still a bit on the rocks about their relationship even though they hadn't talked about it yet. It was sort of an unspoken thing.

Cas kissed him softly. It was like they were starting over, rediscovering each other's lips and tongues. The movement of his mouth was so familiar to Dean, but it was brand new at the same time. It was a slow kiss, one filled with too many emotions to voice, and it lasted a long time before Cas pulled away slightly, panting against Dean's lips.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever leave me like that again."

Dean paused, his eyes opening as he met Cas' burning gaze. "I won't." Cas sighed and shut his eyes. "Are you mad at me?"

"I was scared and worried. I knew you wouldn't just let it go, though. You needed to tie up the loose ends," Cas whispered in reply. He pressed another kiss on Dean's lips.

"Castiel…" Dean breathed. It sounded almost like a prayer. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Cas shushed him with another kiss. "Go back to sleep."

Dean laid down facing Cas, their faces close together and their legs intertwined. He felt Cas' fingers in his hair and on his skin and he drifted into a much needed sleep.

. . . . .

The sun slowly rose and Cas was still sleeping when Dean woke up again. He quietly slipped from the bed and out of his room to head downstairs. He could hear hushed voices talking and found Mary and Gwen sitting together in the kitchen. They both looked up when he entered.

"Morning," he said in greeting, heading to where he saw a fresh pot of coffee on the counter and pouring himself a cup.

"How are you feeling, honey?" his mother asked, watching him.

Dean shrugged. "Fine." He sat at the table beside her and looked over Gwen. There was a small bandage on one side of her face, but other than that she looked okay. "How's your leg?"

"Better. Your mom's a goddess with stiches." She cracked a smile and Dean had to wonder just how many times she'd needed to get stiches in her line of work.

"Surprising since it's been quite a few years," Mary mused with a half-smile.

Dean was about to say something when a phone suddenly started buzzing somewhere and Gwen reached into her pocket. "That's Rufus," she said to Mary. "I'll take this, you fill him in." Her eyes glanced over to Dean once before she stood and limped her way out into the main room, lifting the phone to her ear.

"Rufus?" Dean asked dubiously, sipping his coffee.

"He's an old hunter friend. Gwen called him earlier and he's on his way into town." Mary turned in her chair to face him. "Dean, really, how are you? And don't just shrug and say you're fine again."

Dean dropped his eyes momentarily. "I feel like shit. I just killed three guys and I have no idea how I'm supposed to deal with that right now."

Mary put a hand on his forearm and said, "It's hard at first, but you'll come to terms with it. They hurt you, and they hurt Cas and your brother, too, and countless more before you all. Now they can't hurt anyone else."

Dean just nodded miserably. Gwen reentered the kitchen at that moment and took her seat back on the other side of the table. She shoved her phone in her pocket and met Mary's eyes.

"He'll be here in a few hours. I'll hitch a ride with him back home when we're done."

"Done with what?" Dean asked.

The two women looked at him and then shared a glance. Gwen sighed slightly. "We can't just leave the bodies for anyone to find. And we need to give Christian a proper hunters' burial."

"Oh…" Dean trailed off and they were all quiet for a moment before he turned to his mother. "Did Jess and Brady stay the night?"

Mary nodded. "They're sleeping in Sam's room. I think they—"

She broke off as they heard someone cry out Dean's name and saw Cas slide around the corner into the kitchen. He was panting with wide eyes and Dean jumped to his feet and went to him, a little startled by the way Cas grabbed his arms when he was close enough.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked gently.

"I…nightmare… I woke up and you weren't there," Cas said quickly.

"I'm right here, don't worry." Dean let out an _oof_ as Cas suddenly barreled into him with a hug. He glanced over at his mother and she made a shooing motion with her hand, a faint smile on her lips. They left the kitchen as Dean heard Gwen laughing quietly. He stuck his head back around the wall to give her a glare and she just curled her lips fondly.

* * *

_Six months later…_

It was Cas' birthday and Dean had been planning for months. John gave him a pat on the back and Mary kissed his cheek. They both took turns telling him to have fun and be careful and not to get into _too_ much trouble. Dean just grinned and slung his duffel over his shoulder before he headed out the door and into his beloved Impala, which sat on the driveway looking shiny and new. The smile never left his face as he drove to Cas' house and let himself in with the key that Anna had given to him the week before.

The house was quiet when Dean entered, and he knew that Zach was away at camp, where Sam and Gabe also were. He'd talked to Zach weeks ago about this and, with much persuasion from his parents and Anna, Cas' father had eventually agreed to it. It was a long battle, but Dean was glad. Even if he hadn't given his permission, Dean still would have gone through with his plan, but it was nice knowing that Zach was okay with it.

When Dean got to Cas' room, he found his boyfriend still asleep, his limbs sprawled out and his hair a tangled mess. Dean itched to run his hands through it and kiss him awake, but he had a plan, and he was sticking to it. As quietly as he could, Dean retrieved Cas' own duffel bag from his closet and started packing in various articles of clothing, taking a quick trip to the bathroom down the hall to pick up some other necessities. Cas was still sleeping as Dean took the bag put it in the trunk of his car and then went back to sit on his bed.

He sat quietly, just watching Cas, for a long moment before he reached over and brushed his hair off of his forehead. It was getting long and Dean wondered when Cas had last gotten it cut. He was okay with it though. Cas rarely ever did anything with his hair and Dean loved that perpetual just-got-out-of-bed look that he had.

Cas made a noise and he slowly blinked his eyes open, that blue gaze finding him. "Dean?"

"Rise and shine, baby, we've got a long day ahead of us!"

Cas yawned and rubbed his eyes. "What's so special about today?"

"Did you seriously forget your own birthday?" Dean laughed quietly as Cas sat up. He pulled him in for a short kiss and couldn't help the smile that stuck on his face at the sleepy surprise on Cas' face. "I figured since we didn't really do anything for our one year, and it's your birthday, we could do something special."

"Like what?"

"Get up and get dressed and you'll find out." Dean stood and headed out the door, laughing to himself at Cas' baffled expression. "I'll make you breakfast while you shower." With that said, he went into the kitchen and did just that.

Half an hour later the two were out the door and sliding into the Impala.

"So where are we going?" Cas asked once they were pulling away from his house.

Dean looked over at him and grinned.

. . . . .

Six hours later they were pulling into _Singer Salvage_ and Cas had a look on his face of utter shock. He'd been periodically asking where they were going for the past five hours, but Dean had refused to tell him, and his expression was so priceless that Dean was glad he'd been so secretive about it all.

"Dean…?" Cas asked, getting out of the car and looking around the junkyard with something akin to awe.

"Come on. I can already taste Karen's apple pie and I'm starving." Dean led him around to the front door and they rang the bell. Karen answered it within moments, wiping her hands on the front of the apron she was wearing.

She smiled at them. "Great timing, your pie just came out of the oven."

"You're the best," Dean told her, hugging her tightly. Man, he'd really missed her, and it'd been nearly six months since he'd seen her at Christmas.

"Cas! It's great to see you again," she said, ushering them inside and giving Cas a warm hug, too.

"Yeah, you too," Cas mumbled, still seeming surprised. Dean gave him a bright smile and they followed Karen into the study where Bobby was sitting behind his desk like usual.

"What took you idjits so long? We were expecting you an hour ago!" he asked gruffly, rolling out into the room in his wheelchair.

"Bobby!" Karen admonished him, moving towards the kitchen.

Dean just grinned. "Yeah, good to see you, too, you old fart." He glanced at Cas, who was watching the whole exchange with amusement written in his eyes. "Your memory's not getting so bad that you don't remember Cas, right?"

"Of course I remember him you—"

"Bobby!" Dean heard Cas laugh at Karen's shout.

"Yeah, yeah. Boy, you're still as skinny as the last time we saw you. Good thing you're here for a week. Karen's cooking will soon fix that. Just look at me." Bobby gestured at his gut and they laughed.

"Pie is on the table, boys!" Karen suddenly called out.

Dean's stomach grumbled and he grabbed Cas' wrist, dragging him into the kitchen and to the steaming pieces of pie that awaited them. Dean moaned when he took his first bite and Karen grinned over her shoulder at the wink he sent her way. She moved to stand behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.

She leaned down and whispered into his ear, "I've got a basket in the fridge all packed for tonight."

"Again I say, you're the best," Dean replied around a mouthful of pie. Karen just smiled and straightened.

"Oh, and happy birthday Cas," she said, taking a seat beside them for her own slice of pie.

. . . . .

That night found Dean and Cas laying together on a blanket in the middle of an empty field just a few miles from Bobby's place. Aerosmith was playing softly through the open windows of the Impala behind them. Karen had packed them a dinner of sandwiches, chips, and she even slipped in a beer for each of them, something that Dean needed to remember to thank her for.

They were looking up at the stars above that shone down on them. The only light was from those stars and the half-moon that hung in the sky, but they didn't need much light. Dean was happy just how it was. He was happy that it was just him and Cas with some good music and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass.

"Dean, you're the greatest boyfriend," Cas suddenly said, making Dean turn his head to look at him.

"I know," he replied with a grin. Cas laughed and punched him lightly in the arm, making Dean mutter a faked, "Ouch!"

They were quiet for a long time until Cas spoke again. "When I was younger, Anna and I would sometimes sit out in the backyard and look at the stars. We couldn't see that many though because of the city lights. But out here… you can see it all."

Dean watched him, eyes tracing the profile of Cas' face and memorizing the way that the moon reflected in his irises. He propped himself up on an elbow as Cas pointed an arm up into the air.

"That's Hercules. And there's Draco. That's right next to the Little Dipper. And the Big—"

He was cut off as Dean leaned forward and kissed him. The hand that was in the air slowly dropped down to land on the back of Dean's neck.

"I love it when you talk about geeky stuff," Dean muttered, moving so that he was nearly on top of Cas and kissing his jaw.

Cas just laughed. "Is that why you cut me off?"

"No. I just wanted to kiss you. Keep talking." Dean's lips found their way to Cas' neck and he mouthed silent words against his skin.

"I could tell you about Sagittarius. It represents the centaur Chiron. He was a—mmf—an archer, and a physician. Dean!" Dean laughed and nipped at his collarbone. "Hercules shot him and—Dean really!"

"No, no, I wanna know what happened to him." Dean was laughing even as he stuck his hands under the hem of Cas' shirt and started pulling it up so he could kiss Cas' stomach.

Cas groaned, only half in annoyance. "He was poisoned by the arrow and—ah!—and couldn't cure himself, so he decided to take Prometheus' place in Tartarus. Fuck! Jupiter put him in the stars for that. Happy now?"

Dean chuckled as his mouth hovered over the button on Cas' jeans. "Not yet." He glanced up to see Cas looking at him with a stubborn expression and Dean crawled back to meet his mouth in a hot kiss. He smiled against Cas' lips. "I just like hearing your voice," he said, voice low.

Cas reached for his shoulders and suddenly Dean's back was being pushed into the ground, Cas sitting on his hips. "And I like hearing yours," he said with a dark laugh, his hands already moving to pull Dean's shirt off. Dean threw his head back and grinned.

"This is supposed to be _your_ birthday present, Cas," he protested.

"Mmm, and you've been sitting here all night just waiting to be unwrapped."

Dean just laughed in reply.

* * *

_Meanwhile, 400 miles away…_

_"So are they really dead? Is that really what happened?" Ash asked once Sam had fallen silent._

_"Dead and gone. Burned and buried." Sam nodded._

_"So what are Dean and Cas doing now?" Jo was leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, watching him expectantly._

_Gabe, who was sitting with Sam's arm around him, grinned. He took a lollipop out of his mouth and said mischievously, "They're having fun in South Dakota."_

_"How do you know?" Garth asked dubiously, popping another marshmallow into his mouth._

_"Because Dean's been planning it for months and he and my brother's girlfriend were talking about it just a couple of weeks ago before we left to come here." Gabe met Sam's eyes and they shared a secret smile._

_"Did you know this story?" Chuck looked at Gabe with suspicious eyes._

_Gabe just shook his head. "No. I knew who we were talking about, but no one ever told me the details of what happened."_

_Adam suddenly spoke up. "Won't Dean be mad that you told us, Sam?" _

_Sam just shrugged. "Doesn't really matter now. At least as long as none of you ever says anything about it to anyone else." He let his eyes pass over each of them in turn, giving them all the warning._

_"We won't, we promise," Garth said quickly, his eyes wide. _

_"Why'd you come back here if all that shit happened anyway?"_

_Sam turned to Adam. "Well, it's all over now, and Gabe really wanted to come." He looked down fondly at the boy beside him and Gabe blushed. He was such a child, even though he was the same age as the rest of them. But Sam secretly hoped he would never grow up. "Plus, it gave me an excuse to come see how Gwen was doing."_

_Jo made a gagging noise. "Jeez, you two are the worst."_

_Sam laughed and Garth chucked a marshmallow at her. "I think they're cute," he said. Chuck joined Sam in laughing and soon they were all holding their sides. Nobody was quite sure why they were laughing, but it felt nice, and Sam was just happy that everything truly was over._

_Dean had Cas. He had Gabe. Everything was back to normal. And he was just fine with that._

* * *

A/N: Holy assbutt it's finally over. Okay, not really, because I want to do a couple of time stamps, mostly just for Cas' birthday that I totally skipped over in SiC7A and then Christmas, and maybe a couple of other things. I really love this verse. I really do. And I'm sad that it's ending... but that's why I have time stamps in mind!

Anyway, it's been such a long ride and I'm so thankful for all of you faithful readers who have given me feedback and said such wonderful things about this! Thank you everyone who read this and commented, all of you who have been with this since the beginning and those of you who are new, too. All my love to you! And (not to give myself any self-promotion, of course not) if you liked this, be on the lookout for some time stamps in the near future, or even the next big fic that I'm working on to be put out soon. The witch one that I've been saying I've been working on for the past six months and I really haven't been *cries*. This fic took so much of my time. But it was so worth it.

Enough of my rambling. Thank you all! I hope you enjoyed!


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